ONYX 
LOBBY 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


In   the   Onyx   Lobby 
CAROLYN   WELLS 


BY  CAROLYN  WELLS 


IN  THE  ONYX  LOBBY 

THE  MAN  WHO  FELL  THROUGH 

THE  EARTH 

THE  ROOM  WITH  THE  TASSELS 
FAULKNER'S  FOLLY 
THE  BRIDE  OF  A  MOMENT 
DORIS  OF  DOBBS'  FERRY 
SUCH  NONSENSE!  An  Anthology^ 

NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


IN   THE 
ONYX   LOBBY 


BY 

CAROLYN   WELLS 

Author  of  "The  Man  Who  Fell  Through  the 

Earth,"  "The Room  With  the  Tassels," 

"Faulkner's  Folly,"  etc. 


NEW  ^Sr  YORK 
GEORGE   H.  DORAN   COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1920, 
BY  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


1521441 


3545 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    SUCH  A  FEUD! 7 

II    A  TRICKY  GAME 23 

III  THE  SCRAWLED  MESSAGE    ....  39 

IV  THE  BUSY  POLICE 55 

V  WHO  WERE  THE  WOMEN?    ....  71 

VI    THE  LITTLE  DINNER 87 

VII  ENLIGHTENING  INTERVIEWS       .     .     .  103 

VIII    JULIA  BAXTER 119 

IX    THE  LIBRARY  SET 134 

X    SEEK  THE  WOMEN 150 

XI    THE  OLD  FEUD 166 

XII  ONE  WOMAN  AND  ANOTHER      .     .     .  182 

XIII  MOTIVES 198 

XIV  PENNY  WISE 213 

XV    AND  Zizi .228 

XVI     TESTIMONY 243 

XVII    A  WOMAN  SCORNED 259 

XVIII    FITTED  TO  A  T 274 


IN  THE 
ONYX   LOBBY 


CHAPTER  I 
Such  a  Feud! 

WELL,  by  the  Great  Catamaran !  I  think  it's 
the  most  footle  business  I  ever  heard  of! 
A  regulation,  clinker-built,  angle-iron, 
Sunk-hinge  family  feud,  carried  on  by  two  women! 
Women!  conducting  a  feud!  They  might  as  well 
conduct  a  bakery!" 

"I  daresay  they  could  do  even  that !  Women  have 
been  known  to  bake — with  a  fair  degree  of  suc 
cess!" 

"Of  course,  of  course, — but  baking  and  conduct 
ing  a  bakery  are  not  identical  propositions. )  Women 
are  all  right,  in  their  place, — which,  by  the  way,  is 
not  necessarily  in  the  home, — but  a  family  feud, 
of  all  things,  calls  for  masculine  management  and 
skill^] 

Sir  Herbert  Binney  stood  by  the  massive  mantel 
piece  in  the  ornate  living-room  of  the  Prall  apart- 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


ment.  The  Campanile  Apartment  House  came  into 
being  with  the  century,  and  though  its  type  was  now 
superseded  by  the  plain,  flat  stucco  of  the  newer 
buildings,  yet  it  haughtily  flaunted  its  elaborate  fa- 
c,ade  and  its  deeply  embrasured  windows  with  the 
pride  of  an  elder  day.  Its  onyx  lobby,  lined  with 
massive  pillars,  had  once  been  the  talk  of  the  neigh 
borhood,  and  the  black  and  white  tessellated  floor 
of  the  wide  entrance  hall  was  as  black  and  as  white 
as  ever. 

The  location,  between  the  Circle  and  the  Square, 
— which  is  to  say,  between  Columbus  Circle  and 
Times  Square,  in  the  City  of  New  York, — had 
ceased  to  be  regarded  as  the  pick  of  the  household 
ers,  though  still  called  the  heart  of  the  city.  People 
who  lived  there  were  continually  explaining  the 
reason  for  their  stay,  or  moving  across  town. 

But  lots  of  worthwhile  people  yet  tarried,  and 
among  them  were  none  more  so  than  certain  dwell 
ers  in  The  Campanile. 

Miss  Letitia  Prall,  lessee  of  the  mantelpiece  al 
ready  referred  to,  was  a  spinster,  who,  on  dress  pa 
rade,  possessed  dignity  and  poise  quite  commen 
surate  with  the  quality  of  her  home. 

But  in  the  shelter  of  her  own  fireside,  she  al 
lowed  herself  latitude  of  speech  and  even  loss  of 
temper  when  she  felt  the  occasion  justified  it.  And 
any  reference  to  or  participation  in  the  famous  feud 
was  such  justification. 

Her  opponent  in  the  deadly  strife  was  one  Mrs 
[8]  ' 


Such  a  Feud! 


Everett,  also  an  occupant  of  The  Campanile,  and 
equally  earnest  in  prolonging  the  life  and  energy  of 
the  quarrel. 

Sir  Herbert  Binney,  an  Englishman,  knighted 
since  the  war,  had  come  to  America  in  the  interests 
of  its  own  business,  no  less  an  enterprise  than  the 
establishment  of  an  American  branch  of  the  great 
and  well-known  "Binney's  Buns." 

Celebrated  in  England,  he  hoped  and  expected  to 
make  the  admirable  buns  equally  popular  over  here, 
and  trusted  to  his  engaging  personality  as  well  as  his 
mercantile  acumen  to  accomplish  this  purpose. 

Not  exactly  related  to  Miss  Prall,  Sir  Herbert  was 
connected  by  the  marriage  of  a  relative.  That  is, 
his  stepbrother's  son,  one  Richard  Bates,  was  also 
the  son  of  Miss  Frail's  sister.  This  young  gentle 
man,  who,  by  the  way,  lived  with  his  Aunt  Letitia, 
was  another  reason  for  Sir  Herbert's  presence  in 
New  York.  He  had  thought  that  if  this  nephew 
showed  the  right  sort  of  efficiency  he  could  be  set 
to  manage  the  American  branch,  or,  at  least,  have 
a  hand  in  the  management. 

And  so,  Binney  of  "Binney's  Buns"  had  estab 
lished  himself  in  one  of  the  smaller  suites  of  The 
Campanile,  had  had  his  living-room  repapered  to 
his  taste,  had  made  arrangements  for  his  proper 
service,  and  was  comfortably  domiciled. 

The  fly  in  his  ointment  was  that  young  Bates 
didn't  take  at  all  kindly  to  the  Bun  proposition.  For 
the  chap  was  of  an  inventive  turn,  and  had  already 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


secured  patents  for  some  minor  accessories  and  im 
provements  connected  with  aeroplanes.  Without 
parents  or  fortune  of  his  own,  Richard  Bates  was 
dependent,  so  far,  .on  the  generosity  of  his  Aunt 
Prall,  which,  though  judicious,  was  sufficient  for 
his  bodily  welfare.  But  Bates  was  ambitious,  and 
desired  large  sums  with  which  to  carry  on  his  inven 
tions,  certain  that  they,  in  turn,  would  repay  a  thou 
sandfold. 

As  the  only  legal  heir  of  both  aunt  and  uncle,  and 
with  utmost  faith  in  his  own  powers  of  success, 
Richard  requested,  almost,  indeed,  demanded  ad 
vance  on  his  inheritance,  sufficient  at  least  to  put 
over  his  present  great  piece  of  work,  which  was  ex 
pected  to  prove  of  decided  value  in  aeronautic  plans. 

But  such  advances  were  positively  refused;  by 
Miss  Prall,  because  Richard  declined  to  accede  to  an 
accompanying  condition,  and  by  Uncle  Binney,  be 
cause  he  wanted  his  nephew  for  his  Buns. 

The  recipe  for  the  famous  buns  was  of  an  age  and 
tradition  that  made  it  a  historical  document  in  Eng 
land,  and,  as  yet  unattained  in  this  country,  it  was 
sought  for  by  bakers  and  bunners  of  repute.  But  it 
was  not  for  sale.  Sir  Herbert  Binney  would  estab 
lish  Binney's  Buns  in  America,  and  all  good  Amer 
icans  could  eat  thereof,  but  sell  the  recipe  to  some 
rival  bakeshop  he  would  not.  This  state  of  things 
had  made  necessary  much  parley  and  many  impor 
tant  meetings  of  Baking  Powers.  Among  these 
were  the  great  Crippen's  Cake  Company,  the  Vail 
[10] 


Such  a  Feud!  ' 


Bread  Concern,  the  Popular  Popovers  and  others  of 
sufficient  importance  to  get  a  hearing. 

Genial  and  good-natured,  Sir  Herbert  met  them 
all,  discussed  their  offers  and  reserved  decision.  He 
did  not  say,  even  to  himself,  that  he  was  waiting 
on  the  will  of  one  young  man, — but,  practically, 
that  was  the  truth.  If  Bates  would  give  up  his  fool 
inventing,  and  take  hold  of  the  Buns  in  earnest,  Sir 
Herbert  would  put  him  through  with  bells  on,  would 
make  him  heir  of  the  Buns  and  all  the  great  English 
properties  that  the  Buns  possessed,  and  would  do  all 
in  his  power  to  make  the  life  of  young  Bates  a  bed 
of  choicest  roses. 

But  Richard  Bates  had  all  the  obstinacy  and  stub 
bornness  of  the  born  inventor.  He  knew  he  couldn't 
devote  to  Bun  business  a  brain  teeming  with  new 
notions  for  the  furtherance  of  scientific  attainment. 
And  he  was  too  honest  and  honorable  to  accept  the 
Bun  proposition  and  then  turn  to  aeronautics  on  the 
side.  Nor  was  a  side  issue  of  sufficient  importance 
to  satisfy  his  hunger  for  his  own  chosen  work.  He 
knew  he  could"  put  up  the  goods  that  he  had  in  mind, 
if  he  could  only  get  the  presently  needed  money  for 
his  experiments  and  models.  If  he  could  but  make 
either  uncle  or  aunt  agree  to  his  views,  he  could, 
later,  select  his  own  roses  for  his  bed  of  life. 

But  Sir  Herbert  was  as  obstinate  as  his  nephew 
and  Miss  Letitia  Prall  more  so  than  either  of  them. 

Her  unflinching  and  persistent  adherence  to  her 
decisions  was  clearly  shown  in  the  matter  of  the 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


long  continued  feud.  Not  every  woman  could  meet 
an  opponent  frequently  and  casually  for  twenty 
years  or  so,  and  pursue  an  even  tenor  of  enmity. 

In  the  same  social  circles,  Miss  Prall  and  Mrs. 
Everett  attended  the  same  teas,  luncheons  and 
bridge  parties,  yet  never  deviated  one  jot  or  one  tit 
tle  from  their  original  inimical  attitude. 

Never,  or  at  least,  very  rarely,  were  there  sharp 
words  in  the  presence  of  others,  but  there  wrere 
scathing  silences,  slighting  inattentions  and  even  ven 
omous  looks  that  could  not  pass  unseen. 

In  fact,  they  carried  on  their  leud  after  what 
would  doubtless  be  conceded  by  connoisseurs  the 
most  approved  methods. 

And,  indeed,  after  twenty  years'  experience  it 
would  be  strange  if  the  two  ladies  had  not  attained 
proficiency  in  the  pursuit  of  quarreling  as  a  fine  art. 
Not  always  had  they  lived  under  the  same  roof.  The 
Feud  had  begun  when  they  were  denizens  of  a  small 
country  town,  and,  fostered  in  that  nourishing  at 
mosphere,  had  attained  its  proportions  gradually 
but  steadily. 

When  circumstances  took  them  to  the  city  to  live, 
and,  as  if  afraid  the  unsociability  of  town  life  might 
interfere  with  their  hobby,  the  Feudists  acquired 
homes  in  two  of  the  most  desirable  apartments  of 
The  Campanile. 

Miss  Prall,  tall,  spare  and  writh  the  unmistakable 
earmarks  of  spinsterhood,  directed  her  menage  with 
the  efficiency  and  capability  of  a  general.  She  was 

[12] 


Such  a  Feud! 


nicknamed  among  her  friends,  the  Grenadier,  and 
her  strong  character  and  aggressive  manner  made 
the  description  an  apt  one. 

Her  one  weakness  was  her  adored  nephew.  As 
an  orphaned  infant,  left  to  Miss  Letitia  a  bequest 
from  the  dying  mother,  he  had  been  immediately 
adopted  into  the  child-hungry  heart  of  the  old  maid 
and  had  held  and  strengthened  his  position  through 
out  the  years  until,  at  twenty-five,  he  was  the  apple 
of  one  of  her  eyes,  even  as  her  precious  feud  was  the 
apple  of  the  other. 

But  hers  was  no  doting,  misguided  affection.  Miss 
Prall  had  brought  up  her  nephew,  as  she  did  every 
thing  else,  with  wisdom  and  sound  judgment. 

To  her  training  the  young  Richard  owed  many 
of  his  most  admirable  traits  and  much  of  his  force  of 
character.  No  man  could  have  more  successfully 
instilled  into  a  boy's  heart  the  fundamental  requi 
sites  for  true  manliness,  and  only  on  rare  occasions 
had  his  aunt's  doting  heart  triumphed  over  her  wise 
head  in  the  matter  of  reproof  or  punishment. 

And  now,  this  upstart  uncle,  as  Miss  Prall  con 
sidered  him,  had  come  over  here  from  England,  with 
all  sorts  of  plans  to  take  her  boy  from  his  chosen 
and  desirable  life  work  and  set  him  to  making  buns! 

Buns, — Binney's  Buns!  for  her  gifted  inventive 
genius ! 

This  impending  disaster  together  with  a  new  and 
regrettable  development  affecting  the  Feud  had 
thrown  Miss  Prall  into  a  state  of  nervous  agitation 

[13] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


quite  foreign  to  her  usual  condition  of  calm  super 
iority. 

"Masculine  management  and  skill!"  she  repeated, 
with  a  fine  scorn;  "because  not  every  woman  is  fitted 
by  nature  and  circumstances  to  conduct  affairs  of 
importance  it  does  not  follow  that  there  are  not 
some  feminine  spirits  with  all  the  force  and  power 
of  the  other  sex!" 

"By  gad,  madam,  that  is  true,"  and  Sir  Herbert 
watched  the  Grenadier  as  she  sat  upright  in  her  arm 
chair,  her  fine  head  erect  and  her  straight  shoulders 
well  back.  "I  apologize  for  my  seeming  slight  to 
•your  quarrelsome  abilities,  and  I  concede  your  will 
and  strength  to  fight  your  own  battles.  In  fact,  my 
sympathies  are  for  your  antagonist." 

"Huh!"  and  Miss  Prall  looked  at  him  sharply; 
for  he  had  been  known  to  express  satirical  senti 
ments  under  guise  of  suavity.  "Don't  waste  your  so 
licitude  on  her!  She,  too,  is  able  to  look  out  for 
herself." 

"It  would  seem  so,  since  she  has  taken  part  for 
twenty  years  in  what  is  still  a  drawn  battle." 

"Let  up,  Oldsters,"  laughed  young  Bates,  coming 
breezily  into  the  room.  "You  know  the  main  facts 
of  the  historic  Feud,  Uncle  Herbert,  and,  take  it 
from  me,  sir,  no  amount  of  argument  or  advice  on 
your  part  will  help,  or  in  any  way  affect  it.  Aunt 
Letty  will  eat  up  your  talk,  and  then  floor  you 
with " 

[14] 


Such  a  Feud! 


"Floor  me!  I  think  not!  Binney,  of  Binney's 
Buns,  is  not  of  the  floorable  variety." 

"You  say  that  because  you  haven't  yet  really  met 
Auntie  Let  in  the  arena.  Binney's  Buns  would  cut 
no  better  figure  than, — let  us  say,  Crippen's  Cakes." 

"Crippen's  Cakes!    Do  you  know  Crippen?" 

"Does  she!"  and  Richard  Bates  grinned;  "why, 
the  Cake  Crippen  is  one  of  Aunt  Letitia's  old  beaux, 
— might  have  been  my  uncle,  if " 

"Hush,  Richard!"  said  the  aunt. 

"If  he  hadn't  also  shined  up  to  Mrs.  Everett,  the 
rival  faction."  Richard  went  on,  with  open  relish 
of  his  aunt's  discomfiture. 

"Hush,  Richard!"  she  said,  again,  and  this  time 
some  veiled  hint  apparently  was  efficacious,  for  he 
changed  the  subject. 

"I  say,  Uncle  Herb,  what  about  the  Follies  to 
night  ?  I've  got  a  couple  of  seats, — and  I  know  your 
tastes " 

"Front  row?" 

"No ;  couldn't  corral  those, — but  good  ones,  in  the 
fourth." 

"Nay,  nay,  Pauline.  I  don't  see  well  enough  to 
sit  so  far  back.  Use  those  yourself,  Richard, — take 
your  aunt,  here!  But  I'll  find  a  seat  in  the  front 
row, — in  some  front  row,  if  I  have  to  buy  their 
bloomin'  theater  to  get  it !" 

"Good  for  you,  Sir  Herbert!"  exclaimed    Miss 
Prall,  who  admired  determination  wherever  she  met 
it.    "I'll  go  with  you.      I  like  the  front  row,  too." 
[15] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Sorry,  madam,  but  I'm  not  taking  guests."  He 
winked  at  Richard. 

"Naturally  not,"  Miss  Letitia  sniffed.  "I  know 
why  you  want  to  go  alone, — I  know  why  you  want 
the  front  row!  You're  going  to  attract  a  chorus 
girl,  and  invite  her  to  supper  with  you." 

"Marvelous,  Holmes,  marvelous !"  Sir  Herbert 
exclaimed,  with  mock  amazement.  "I  am  surprised 
at  your  clairvoyance,  ma'am,  but  deeply  pained  that 
you  should  know  of  and  be  so  familiar  with  such 
goings  on.  Do  you  learn  of  that  sort  of  thing 
from  your  nephew?  Really,  Richard,  I'm  amazed 
at  you !" 

"Nonsense,  Uncle  Bin,  I  passed  through  that 
stage  long  ago.  I  used  to  girl  around  in  my  callow 
days,  but  I  got  fed  up  with  it,  and  now  life  holds 
more  worthwhile  temptations.  It's  an  old  story  to 
auntie,  too.  Why  she  used  to  chaperon  my  giddiest 
parties, — bless  her!" 

Sir  Herbert's  sharp  eyes  looked  from  one  of  his 
companions  to  the  other. 

"You're  a  pair,"  he  opined,  "both  tarred  with  the 
same  brush." 

"And  the  brush?"  asked  Miss  Prall,  belligerently. 

"Modern  sophistication  and  the  present-day  fad 
of  belittling  everything  that  is  interesting  or  pleas 
urable." 

"That  mental  phase  is  the  inevitable  result  of 
worldly  experience,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  cynical 
[16] 


Such  a  Feud! 


smile.  "How  is  it  that  you  preserve  such  youthful 
interest  ?' 

"Well — "  and  the  Englishman  looked  a  little  quiz 
zical,  "you  see,  the  girls  are  still  young." 

"Very  young,"  assented  Bates,  gravely.  "There's 
a  new  bunch  of  Squabs  at  the  Gaynight  Revue 
that'll  do  you  up !  Better  buy  that  place  out,  Unkie !" 

"Perhaps;  but  now,  young  Richard,  let's  discuss 
some  more  imminent,  if  not  more  important,  ques 
tions.  Say,  Buns,  for  instance." 

"Nothing  doing.  I've  said  my  last  word  on  the 
Bun  subject,  and  if  you  persist  in  recurring  to  it, 
you'll  only  get  that  last  word  over  again, — repeated, 
reiterated,  recapitulated  and, — if  necessary, — ree'n- 
forced!" 

"With  some  good,  strong  epithets,  I  suppose," 
remarked  his  uncle,  calmly.  "I  don't  blame  you, 
Rick,  for  being  bored  by  my  persistency,  but  you 
see  I  haven't  yet  given  up  all  hope  of  making  you 
see  reason.  Why  I  do " 

"Well,  when  you  do — what?" 

"Time  enough  to  answer  that  question  when  it's 
time  to  ask  it.  Instead,  let  me  recount  the  advantages 
I  can  offer  you " 

"Oh,  Lord! — pardon  my  interrupting, — but  that 
recounting  is  an  old  story,  you  know.  Those  ad 
vantages  are  as  familiar  to  my  wearied  mind  as  my 
own  name, — or  at  least  as  yours, — and  your  precious 
Buns " 

"Stop,  sir!  Don't  you  speak  slightingly  of  Bin- 
[17] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


ney's  Buns !    They  were  eaten  before  you  were  born 
and  will  be  eaten  after  you  are  dead  and  forgotten." 

"Not  forgotten  if  I  put  my  invention  over!" 

"You'll  never  do  it.  Your  success  is  problemati 
cal.  The  Buns  are  an  assured  fact.  They  were 
eaten  before  the  war, — they  will  be  eaten  again  now 
that  the  war  is  over.  They  are  eaten  in  England, — 
they  will  be  eaten  in  America.  If  not  with  the  help 
of  your  interest  and  energy,  then  with  that  of  some 
one  else.  Think  well,  my  boy,  before  you  throw 
away  fame  and  fortune " 

"To  acquire  fame  and  fortune!" 

"To  strive  for  it  and  fail — for  that  is  what  you 
will  do !  You're  riding  for  a  fall,  and  you're  going 
to  get  it!" 

"Not  if  I  can  prevent  it,"  Miss  Prall  interposed, 
in  her  low  yet  incisive  tones.  "I'm  ready  to  back 
Ricky's  prospects  to  the  uttermost,  if  only — " 

"If  only  what?  What  is  this  condition  you  im 
pose  on  the  lad  ?  And  why  keep  it  so  secret  ?  Tell 
me,  nephew,  I'll  let  you  in  on  the  Buns  in  spite  of 
any  blot  on  your  scutcheon.  What  is  it  that  troubles 
your  aunt?" 

"What  always  troubles  her?  What  has  spoiled 
and  embittered  her  whole  life  ?  Hardened  her  heart  ? 
Corroded  her  soul?  What,  but  her  old  ridiculous, 
absurd,  contemptible,  damnable  Feud!" 

"There,  there,  my  boy,  remember  your  aunt  is  a 
lady,  and  such  expressions  are  not  permissible  before 

her " 

[18] 


Such  a  Feud! 


"Pish!  Tush!"  snorted  Miss  Prall,  who  would  not 
have  herself  objected  to  that  descriptive  verb,  since 
it  gives  the  very  impression  she  wanted  to  convey, 
"If  I  did  not  permit  such  expressions  Richard  would 
not  use  them,  rest  assured  of  that." 

Bates  smiled  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigarette.  These 
tilts  between  his  elders  greatly  amused  him,  they 
seemed  so  futile  and  inane,  yet  of  such  desperate 
interest  to  the  participants. 

"Then  that's  all  right,"  Sir  Herbert  conceded. 
"Now,  Richard,  for  the  last  time,  I  offer  you  the 
chance  to  fall  in  with  my  wishes,  to  consent  to  my 
fondest  desire,  and  attach  yourself  to  my  great,  my 
really  stupendous  enterprise.  I  want,  with  my  whole 
soul,  to  keep  Binney's  Buns  in  the  family, — I  want 
a  worthy  partner  and  successor,  and  one  of  my  own 
blood  kin, — but,  I  can't  force  you  into  this  agree 
ment, — I  can  only  urge  you,  with  all  the  powers  of 
my  persuasion,  to  see  it  rightly,  and  to  realize  that 
your  refusal  will  harm  you  more  than  any  one  else." 

"I'll  take  a  chance  on  that,  Uncle  Bin."  Bates 
gave  him  a  cheery  smile  that  irritated  by  its  very 
carelessness. 

"You'll  lose,  sir!  You'll  see  the  day  that  you'll 
wish  you  had  taken  up  with  my  offers.  You'll  re 
gret,  when  it's  too  late " 

"Why,  what's  your  alternative  plan?" 

"Aha!"  Interested,  are  you?  Well,  young  sir, 
my  alternative  plan  is  to  find  somebody  with  more 
common  sense  and  good  judgment  than  your  rattle- 
[19] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


pated,  pig-headed  self !    That's  my  alternative  plan." 

"Got  anybody  in  view?" 

"And  if  I  have?" 

"Go  to  it!  Take  my  blessing,  and  stand  not  on 
the  order  of  your  going  to  it, — but  skittle!  You 
can't  go  too  fast  to  suit  me !" 

"You're  an  impudent  and  disrespectful  young  ras 
cal  !  Your  bringing-up  is  sadly  at  fault  if  it  allows 
you  to  speak  thus  to  your  elders !" 

"Oh,  come  off,  Uncle  Binney !  You  may  be  older 
than  I  in  actual  years,  but  you've  got  to  hand  it  to 
me  on  the  score  of  temperamental  senescence !  Why, 
you're  a  very  kid  in  your  enthusiasm  for  the  halls 
of  dazzling  light  and  all  that  in  them  is!  So,  and, 
by  the  way,  old  top,  I  mean  no  real  disrespect,  but  I 
consider  it  a  compliment  to  your  youth  and  beauty 
to  recognize  it  in  a  feeling  of  camaraderie  and  good- 
fellowship.  Are  we  on?" 

"Yes,  that's  all  right,  son,  but  can't  your  good- 
fellowship  extend  itself  to  the  Buns?" 

"Nixy.  Nevaire !  Cut  out  all  Bun  talk,  and  I'm 
your  friend  and  pardner.  Bun,  and  you  Bun  alone!" 

A  long,  steady  gaze  between  the  eyes  of  the  young 
man  and  the  old  seemed  to  convince  each  of  the  im 
mutability  of  this  decision,  and,  with  a  deep  sigh,  the 
Bun  promoter  changed  the  subject. 

"This  Gayheart  Review,  now,  Richard, "  he 

began. 

"Don't  consider  the  question  settled,  Sir  Her 
bert,"  said  Miss  Letitia  Prall,  with  a  note  of  anx- 

[20] 


Such  a  Feud! 


iety  in  her  voice,  quite  unusual  to  it.  "Give  me  a 
chance  to  talk  to  Ricky  alone,  and  I  feel  almost  cer 
tain  I  can  influence  his  views." 

"A  little  late  in  the  day,  ma'am,"  Binney  returned, 
shortly.  "I  have  an  alternative  plan,  but  if  I  wait 
much  longer  to  make  use  of  it,  the  opportunity  may 
be  lost.  Unless  Richard  changes  his  mind  to-day,  he 
needn't  change  it  at  all, — so  far  as  I  am  concerned." 

"Going  to  organize  a  Bakery  of  ex-chorus  girls?" 
asked  Bates,  flippantly.  "Going  to  persuade  them  to 
throw  in  their  fortunes  with  yours  ?" 

A  merry,  even  affectionate  smile  robbed  this 
speech  of  all  unpleasant  effect,  and  Sir  Herbert 
smiled  back. 

"Not  that,"  he  returned;  "I'd  be  ill  fitted  to  at 
tend  to  a  bakery  business  with  a  horde  of  enchant 
ing  damsels  cavorting  around  the  shop !  No,  chorus 
girls  are  all  right  in  their  place, — which  is  not  in  the 
home,  nor  yet  in  a  business  office." 

"That's  true,  and  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you,  Uncle, 
as  a  real  live  business  man,  with  his  undivided  at 
tention  on  his  work, — in  business  hours, — and  out 
side  of  those,  his  doings  are  nobody's  business." 

"With  your  leanings  toward  the  fair  sex,  it's  a 
wonder  you  never  married,"  observed  Miss  Prall,  in 
quisitively. 

"My  leanings  toward  them  in  no  way  implies  their 
leanings  toward  me,"  returned  the  bachelor,  his  eyes 
twinkling.  "And,  moreover,  a  regard  for  one  of 
the  fair  sex  that  would  imply  a  thought  of  marriage 

tar] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


with  her,  would  be  another  matter  entirely  from  a 
liking  for  the  little  stars  of  the  chorus.  To  me  they 
are  not  even  individuals,  they  are  merely  necessary 
parts  of  an  entertaining  picture.  I  care  no  more 
for  them,  personally,  than  for  the  orchestra  that 
makes  music  for  their  dancing  feet,  or  for  the  stage 
manager  who  produces  the  setting  for  their  engag 
ing  gracefulness." 

"That's  so,  Uncle,"  Bates  agreed;  "you're  a  stage 
Johnny,  all  right,  but  you're  no  Lothario." 

''Thank  you,  Son,  such  discriminating  praise  from 
Sir  Hubert  Stanley,  makes  me  more  than  ever  re 
gret  not  having  his  association  in  my  business  af 
fairs." 

"Don't  be  too  sure  that  you  won't  have  him," 
Miss  Prall  temporized ;  "when  does  his  time  for  de 
cision  expire?" 

"To-night,"  said  Sir  Herbert,  briefly,  and  at  that, 
with  a  gesture  of  bored  impatience,  Bates  got  up 
and  went  out. 


[22] 


CHAPTER  II 
A  Tricky  Game 

THE  Prall  apartment  was  on  the  eighth  floor, 
but  Richard  Bates  passed  by  the  elevator 
and  went  down  the  stairs.  Only  one  flight, 
however,  and  on  the  seventh  floor,  he  walked  along 
the  hall,  whistling  in  a  subdued  key.  The  air  was 
an  old  song,  a  one-time  favorite,  "Won't  you  come 
out  and  play  wiz  me?"  and  the  faint  notes  grew 
stronger  as  he  passed  a  certain  door.  Then  he  went 
on,  but  soon  turned,  retraced  his  steps,  and  went  up 
again  the  one  flight  of  stairs.  Pausing  at  the  ele 
vator,  he  pushed  the  down  button  and  was  soon  in 
the  car  and  smiling  on  the  demure  young  woman  in 
uniform  who  ran  it. 

"This  car  of  yours,  Daisy,"  he  remarked,  "is  like 
the  church  of  Saint  Peter  at  Rome,  it  has  an  atmos 
phere  of  its  own.  But  if  the  church  had  this  atmos 
phere  there'd  be  mighty  few  worshipers !  How  can 
you  stand  it?  Doesn't  it  make  you  ill?" 

"111?"  and  the  girl  rolled  weary  eyes  at  him;  "I'm 
dead !  You  can  bring  the  flowers  when  you're  ready, 
Gridley!" 

"Poor  child,"  and  Bates  looked  compassionately 
[23] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


at  the  white  face,  that  even  a  vanity  case  failed  to 
keep  in  blooming  condition,  so  moisty  warm  was 
the  stuffy  elevator.  "It's  wicked  to  shut  you  up  in 
such  a  cage " 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right,"  she  responded,  hurriedly,  as 
her  bell  sounded  a  sharp,  impatient  ring.  "I'm  not 
complaining.  But  people  are  so  trying  on  a  day  like 
this.  That's  Mr.  Binney's  ring." 

"How  do  you  know  Do  you  know  everybody's 
touch?" 

"Not  everybody's, — but  lots  of  them.  Mr.  Bin- 
ney,  he  hates  elevator  girls " 

"Oh,  come  now, — my  uncle  is  a  great  admirer  of 
all  women " 

"Not  if  they  work.  He  talks  a  good  deal,  you 
know, — talks  all  the  time, — and  he's  everlastingly 
knocking  girls  who  do  the  work  he  thinks  men 
ought  to  do." 

"But  it's  none  of  his  business, — in  this  house !" 

"Mr.  Binney  is  particularly  and  especially  inter 
ested  in  what's  none  of  his  business !" 

The  girl  spoke  so  bitterly  that  Bates  looked  at 
her  in  surprise. 

But  he  was  at  the  ground  floor,  and  as  he  left  the 
elevator  he  forgot  all  else  in  anticipation  of  a  certain 
coming  delight. 

He  strolled  the  length  of  the  great  onyx  lobby, 
its  sides  a  succession  of  broad  mirrors  between  enor 
mous  onyx  columns  with  massive  gilded  capitals. 
Tall  palms  were  at  intervals,  alternating  with  crim- 
[24] 


A  Tricky  Game 

son  velvet  sofas  and  on  one  of  these,  near  the  vesti 
bule,  Bates  sat  down  to  wait  for  the  delight. 

And  in  the  course  of  time,  she  came,  tripping 
along  the  black  and  white  diamonds  of  the  marble 
floor,  her  high  heels  tapping  quickly,  her  lithe  grace 
fulness  hurrying  to  keep  the  tryst. 

Dorcas  Everett  was  of  the  type  oftenest  seen 
among  the  well-to-do  young  girls  of  New  York,  but 
she  was  one  of  the  best  examples  of  that  type. 

Wise,  sparkling  eyes,  soft,  rounded  chin  held 
alertly  up,  dark,  curly  hair  arranged  in  a  pleasant 
modification  of  the  latest  fashion,  her  attire  was  of 
the  most  careful  tailor-made  variety,  and  her  little 
feathered  toque  was  put  on  at  just  the  right  angle 
and  was  most  engagingly  becoming. 

She  said  no  word  but  gave  a  happy  smile  as  Bates 
rose  and  eagerly  joined  her  and  together  they  passed 
put  through  the  imposing  portal. 

"It's  awful,"  she  murmured,  as  they  walked  across 
to  Fifth  Avenue.  "I  said  I  wouldn't  do  it  .again, 
you  know,  and  then — when  I  heard  your  whistle, — 
I  just  couldn't  help  it !  But  don't  do  it  any  more — 
will  you?  You  promised  you  wouldn't." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  promise,  dear;  I  said  I'd  try  not  to. 
And  I  did  try,  but — it  seems  I  failed." 

"Bad  boy !  Very  bad  Rikki-tikki-tavi.  But  what 
are  we  going  to  do?" 

"First  of  all,  where  are  we  going?    Tea  Room? 
Some  place  where  I  can  talk  to  you." 
[25] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"No;  it's  too  stuffy  to-day  to  be  indoors.  Let's 
walk  up  to  the  Park  and  go  in." 

"All  right.  Now,  Dorrie,  we  must  face  this 
thing.  We  can't  go  on  meeting  secretly, — neither 
of  us  likes  it, " 

"I  should  say  not!  I  hate  it  a  thousand  times 
worse'n  you  do.  But  Rick,  mother  is  more  obstinate 
than  ever.  She  says  if  I  see  you  again,  or  speak  to 
you,  she'll  pack  up  and  move  out  of  New  York. 
Think  of  that!" 

"I  can't  think  of  it!  It  is  unthinkable!  Now, 
Dorcas,  darling,  there's  only  one  thing  to  do.  You 
must  marry  me " 

"Hush  that  nonsense !    I  don't  propose " 

"Naturally  not !    I'm  doing  the  proposing " 

"Don't  think  because  you  make  me  laugh  you're 
going  to  bamboozle  me  into  consent !  I  decline,  re 
fuse  and  renounce  you,  if  you're  going  to  take  that 
tack.  I  shall  never  marry  you  without  the  consent 
of  my  mother  and  your  aunt,  and  you  know  it!" 

"I  do  know  it,  Dork,  and  that's  what  breaks  me 
all  up.  Confound  that  old  Feud !  But,  I  say,  Uncle 
Binney  is  on  our  side  I  sounded  him  and  he 
approves  of  my  marrying  at  once, — doesn't  care 
who  the  girl  is, — and  will  make  me  his  heir  and  all 
that, " 

"If  you  give  up  your  inventing  and  go  into  his 
Bunny  business." 

"Yes ;  that's  his  game.    Shall  I  do  it" 
[26] 


A  Tricky  Game 

"No!  A  thousand  times  no.  I  don't  want  to 
marry  a  bakery!" 

"And  anyway,  it  wouldn't  help  the  Feud " 

"No ;  nothing  will  help  that.  It  would  seem  that 
we  could  move  the  hearts  of  those  two  women,  but 
my  mother  is  hard  as  adamant." 

"And  my  aunt  is  hard  as  nails.  After  all  these 
years  they're  not  going  to  be  moved  by  a  pair  of 
broken  young  hearts." 

"No;  mother  says  that  because  I'm  so  young, 
my  heart  will  heal  up  in  plenty  of  time  to  break 
over  somebody  else." 

"Pleasant  thought!" 

"Oh,  mother  doesn't  try  to  be  pleasant  about  it. 
She  makes  my  life  a  burden  by  harping  on  my  un- 
duti  fulness  and  all  that, — and  when  she  isn't  bally- 
ragging  me,  Kate  is." 

"Kate!     A  servant!" 

"But  Kate  doesn't  look  upon  herself  as  a  servant, 
exactly.  She's  lady's  maid  now, — to  mother  and 
me, — but  she  was  my  nurse,  you  know,  and  she 
thinks  she  sort  of  owns  me.  Anyway,  she  acts  so." 

"And  she  stands  for  the  feud?" 

"Rath-er!  She  believes  in  the  feud  and  all  its 
works.  And  she's  a  spy,  too.  If  she  hadn't  be 
lieved  my  yarn  that  I  was  headed  for  Janet's  to-day, 
she'd  been  downstairs  trailing  me!" 

"Clever  Dork,  to  outwit  her !" 

"That's  nothing — I'm  clever  enough  to  hoodwink 
her  and  mother,  too,  but  I  don't  want  to.  I  hate 
[27] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


it,  Rick;  I  hate  anything  underhanded  or  deceitful. 
Only  my  love  for  you  made  me  come  out  here  to 
day." 

The  big,  dark  eyes  looked  wistfully  into  Bates' 
blue  ones.  The  troubled  look  on  Dorcas'  dear  little 
face  stirred  the  depths  of  his  soul,  and  his  heart 
struggled  between  his  appreciation  of  her  high- 
mindedness  and  his  yearning  love. 

"I  want  you,  Dorrie,"  he  said,  simply;  "I  want 
you  terribly, — desperately, — and  I — I  admit  it — 
would  be  willing  to  take  you  on  any  terms.  I'd  run 
away  with  you  in  a  minute,  if  you'd  go !  To  be  sure, 
I  honor  your  truthfulness  and  all  that, — but,  oh, 
little  girl,  can't  you  put  me  ahead  of  your  mother?" 

"I  don't  know, " 

"You're  hesitating!   You've  thought  about   it! 
Oh,  Dork,  will  you?" 

"There,  there,  don't  go  so  fast!  No,  I  won't! 
But,  tell  me  this :  Would  your  uncle  stand  for  it, — 
and  let  you  go  on  with  your  own  work?" 

"Oh,  no !  It's  Buns  or  nothing  with  him  and  me. 
But  I'm  his  heir,  if  he  should  drop  off  suddenly,  I'd 
have  his  whole  fortune " 

"Dead  men's  shoes!    Oh,  Ricky,  for  shame?" 

"Not  at  all.  If  he  can  make  a  will,  I  can  talk 
about  it.  And  he  told  me  he  has  made  a  will  in  my 
favor, — but  he's  going  to  change  it  if  I  don't  adopt 
his  Buns." 

"What  nonsense, — even  to  think  about  it.     Let 
him  change  it,  then,  for  you'll  never  be  a  Bun  man !" 
[28] 


A  Tricky  Game 

"I  wonder  if  it  would  help  matters  if  you  met 
Uncle  Binney?" 

"Let's  try  it.  Though  I'm  sure  I  should  call  him 
Uncle  Bunny !  Does  he  like  girls  ?" 

"Adores  them, — that  is,  some  sorts.  He  likes 
nice  girls  properly.  He  likes  naughty  girls, — per 
haps  improperly.  But  the  girls  in  the  house, — the 
elevator  kids  and  the  telephone  girls,  he  just  bates." 

"Hates?" 

"They  irritate  him  somehow.  He  thinks  all  such 
positions  should  be  filled  by  men  or  boys.  He  says 
the  war  is  over,  and  he  wants  all  the  girls  taken  off 
those  jobs." 

"How  unjust  and  unreasonable." 

"Uncle  Herbert  has  both  of  those  admirable 
qualities.  But  he'd  adore  you, — unless  he  found  out 
you  disapprove  of  the  Buns,  and  then  he'd  turn  and 
rend  you!" 

"I  don't  disapprove  of  them, — except  for  you." 

"That's  what  I  mean, — for  me." 

"Then  I  guess  I'd  better  not  meet  Friend  Bunny." 

"Oh,  Dorcas,  I  don't  know  what  to  do!  There's 
no  light  from  any  direction.  There's  no  hope  from 
your  mother,  my  aunt  or  Sir  Herbert.  If  you  won't 
cut  and  run  with  me, — and  if  you're  in  earnest  about 
not  meeting  me  secretly  any  more, — what  can  we 
do?" 

"Nothing,  Rick, — nothing  at  all." 

Dorcas  spoke  very  seriously, — even  sadly,  and 
Bates  realized  how  much  in  earnest  she  was.  They 
[29] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


were  in  the  Park  now,  and  by  tacit  consent  they  sat 
down  on  a  bench  near  the  Mall. 

Their  eyes  met  dumbly.  Though  Bates  was  only 
twenty-five  and  Dorcas  twenty-two,  they  were  both 
older  than  their  years,  and  were  of  fine  temper  and 
innate  strength  of  character. 

They  had  known  one  another  as  children  in  their 
little  home  town,  and  later,  as  the  feud  developed 
and  gained  strength,  the  young  people  had  been  sent 
away  to  schools.  Later,  the  war  took  Richard  from 
home,  and  only  very  recently  had  propinquity 
brought  about  the  interest  that  soon  ripened  to  love. 
And  a  deeper,  more  lasting  love  than  is  often  found 
between  two  young  hearts.  Both  took  it  very  seri 
ously,  and  each  thoroughly  realized  the  tragedy  of 
the  attitude  of  their  respective  guardians. 

"Good  gracious,  Richard,  I  shall  go  straight  home 
and  tell  your  aunt !" 

This  speech  was  from  the  stern-faced  woman  who 
paused  in  front  of  the  pair  on  the  bench. 

"Good  gracious,  Eliza,  go  straight  ahead  and  do 
so!" 

Bates'  eyes  shot  fire  and  his  face  flushed  with 
anger. 

Eliza  Gurney  was  his  aunt's  companion,  indeed, 
her  tame  cat,  her  chattel,  and  partly  from  charity, 
partly  because  of  need  of  her  services,  Miss  Prall 
kept  Eliza  with  her  constantly. 

Of  a  fawning,  parasitic  nature,  the  companion 
made  the  best  of  her  opportunities,  and,  without  be- 

[30] 


A  Tricky  Game 

ing  an  avowed  spy,  she  kept  watch  on  Richard's 
movements  as  far  as  she  conveniently  could.  And 
in  this  instance,  suspecting  his  intent,  she  had  fol 
lowed  the  young  couple  at  a  discreet  distance,  and 
now  faced  them  with  an  accusing  eye. 

"No,  don't,"  pleaded  Dorcas,  as  Miss  Gurney 
turned  to  follow  up  Richard's  suggestion.  "Oh, 
dear  Miss  Gurney,  help  us,  won't  you?  We're  in 
such  a  hopeless  tangle.  You  were  young  once, 
and " 

Dorrie  could  scarcely  have  chosen  a  worse  argu 
ment, — for  that  her  youth  had  slipped  away  from 
her,  was  Miss  Gurney's  worst  fear. 

"I  am  forbidden  to  speak  to  this  girl,  Richard," 
Miss  Gurney  said,  with  pursed  lips  and  heightened 
color.  She  addressed  herself  carefully  to  Bates  and 
ignored  th'e  presence  of  Dorcas.  "You  are,  too,  as 
you  well  know,  and  though  you  have  so  far  forgot 
ten  yourself  as  to  disobey  your  aunt,  I've  no  inten 
tion  of  committing  a  like  sin." 

"Fudge,  Eliza,  don't  go  back  on  me  like  that.  You 
used  to  be  my  friend, — have  you  forsaken  me  en 
tirely?" 

"If  you've  forsaken  your  aunt, — not  unless. 
Leave  this  girl  instantly  and  go  home  with  me,  and 
there'll  be  no  question  of  'forsaking.' ' 

"Forsake  Miss  Everett!  Not  while  this  machine 
is  to  me!  Go  home  yourself,  Eliza;  be  a  tattletale, 
if  you  want  to,  but  get  out  of  here!" 

Bates  became   furious   because   of   a  malevolent 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


gleam  in  Miss  Gurney's  eye  as  she  looked  at  Dorcas. 

"I'll  go,  Richard, — and  I  shall  not  only  tell  your 
aunt  what  I  have  seen,  but  I  shall  feel  it  my  duty 
to  acquaint  Mrs.  Everett  with  the  facts." 

"Don't  you  dare!"  cried  Dorcas,  springing  up, 
and  facing  the  unpleasant  faced  one  with  uncon 
trollable  indignation.  "What  I  do,  I  tell  my  mother 
myself, — I  don't  have  the  news  carried  to  her  by  her 
enemy's  spy!" 

"Hoity-toity,  miss,  you're  a  chip  off  the  old  block, 
I  see!" 

"And  you're  a  trustworthy  soul,  to  be  talking  to 
me  when  you're  forbidden  to  do  so !" 

The  triumph  in  Dorcas'  tone  was  quite  as  galling 
to  Eliza  Gurney  as  her  own  chagrin  at  having  broken 
her  word.  But,  once  in  the  moil,  she  saw  no  reason 
for  backing  out,  and  proceeded  to  pick  an  open  quar 
rel. 

"I  can  explain  my  speech  with  you  to  Miss  Frail's 
satisfaction,"  she  went  on,  acidly,  "and  I'll  inform 
you,  Miss  Everett,  that  you've  spoiled  Mr.  Bates' 
life  by  this  clandestine  affair  of  yours.  I  happen 
to  know  that  his  uncle,  Sir  Herbert  Binney,  was 
just  about  to  make  him  his  heir,  but  he  will  change 
his  mind  when  he  hears  of  this  escapade." 

"Oh,  clear  out,  Eliza,"  stormed  Bates;  "you've 
given  us  enough  of  that  drivel,  now  hook  it !  Hear 
me?" 

Miss  Gurney  stared  at  him.  "Your  companion 
ship  with  this  young  woman  has  corrupted  your 
[32] 


A  Tricky  Game 

good  manners,"  she  began,  quite  undeterred  by  his 
wrath. 

Whereupon  Bates  took  her  firmly  by  the  shoul 
der,  spun  her  round,  and  said,  "Go !"  in  such  a  tone 
that  she  fairly  scurried  away. 

"I  vanquished  her,"  he  said,  a  little  ruefully,  "but 
I'm  afraid  it's  a  frying  pan  and  fire  arrangement. 
She'll  tell  Aunt  Letitia,  and  either  aunt  or  Eliza 
herself  will  go  at  once  to  your  mother  with  the 
tale, " 

"Well,  I'd  really  rather  they'd  be  told..  I  had  to 
tell  mother, — for  truly,  Rick,  I  can't  live  in  an  at 
mosphere  of  deceit.  I  may  be  a  crank  or  a  craven, 
but  much  as  I  love  you,  I  can't  stand  keeping  it  a 
secret." 

"I  know  it,  dear,  and  I  don't  like  it  a  bit  better 
than  you  do,  only  to  tell  is  to  be  separated, — at  once, 
and  maybe,  forever." 

"No!"  cried  Dorcas,  looking  at  his  serious  face. 
"Not  forever!" 

"Yes ;  even  you  don't  realize  the  lengths  to  which 
those  two  women  will  go.  I  hate  to  speak  so  of  your 
mother,  I  hate  to  speak  so  of  my  aunt, — but  I  know 
they'll  move  out  of  town,  one  or  both,  and  they'll 
go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  keep  us  apart." 

"But  they've  always  lived  near  each  other, — for 
years,  in  the  same  building." 

"Yes;  that  was  so  they  could  quarrel  and  annoy 
and  tantalize  each  other.  But  now  the  necessity  of 
[33] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


separating  us  two  will  be  their  paramount  motive, 
and  you'll  see; — they'll  do  it!" 

"Then— then " 

"Then  let's  get  married,  and  go  off  by  ourselves  ? 
Darling,  if  we  only  could!  And  I'll  go  into  the 
Buns,  in  a  minute,  if  you  say  so.  Much  as  I  hate 
to  give  up  my  own  work,  I'd  not  hesitate,  except  for 
your  sake " 

"No,  I  don't  want  to  marry  a  bakery  man !  And, 
I've  too  much  ambition  for  you  to  let  you  throw 
your  talent  away !  Yet,  we  couldn't  live  on  nothing 
a  year !  And,  until  your  inventions  are  farther  along, 
you  can't  realize  anything  on  them." 

"Bless  me,  what  a  little  business  woman  it  is! 
Well,  we've  both  common  sense  enough  not  to  make 
fools  of  ourselves, — but  oh,  Dork,  I  do  want  you 
so!  And  if  it  were  not  for  that  foolish,  ridiculous 
feud,  we  could  be  so  happy !" 

"It  isn't  exactly  the  feud, — I  mean,  of  course  it 
is  that,  but  it's  back  of  that, — it's  the  determined, 
never-give-up  natures  of  the  two  women.  I  don't 
know  which  is  more  obstinate,  mother  or  Miss  Prall, 
but  I  know, — oh,  Ricky,  I  know  neither  of  them  will 
ever  surrender!" 

"Of  course  they  won't, — I  know  that,  too.  So, 
must  we  give  up  ?" 

"What  choice  have  we?     What  alternative?" 

"None."    Bates'  face  was  blankly  hopeless.    "But, 
Dork,  dear,  I  can't  live  without  you!     Can't  you 
look  ahead  to — to  something?" 
[34] 


A  Tricky  Game 

"Don't  see  anything  to  look  ahead  to.  We  might 
say  we'll  wait  for  each  other, — I'm  willing, — and 
something  tells  me  you  are !  But, — that's  an  unsat 
isfactory  arrangement " 

"It's  all  of  that!  Oh,  hang  it  all,  Dork,  I'll  go 
into  some  respectable  business  and  earn  a  living. 
I'll  give  up  my  plans  and " 

"If  you  do  that,  you  may  as  well  go  in  for  Buns." 

"Buns !    I  thought  you  scorned  the  idea !" 

"Principally  because  I  want  you  to  be  an  inventor. 
But  if  you  give  up  your  life  work, — oh,  Rick,  what 
could  you  do?" 

"Nothing  much  at  first.  I'd  have  to  take  a  clerk 
ship  or  something  and  work  up." 

"I'm  willing  to  share  poverty  with  you, — in 
theory, — but  you  don't  realize  what  the  reality  would 
mean  to  us.  Not  only  because  we're  both  accus 
tomed  to  having  everything  we  want,  but  more 
especially  because  in  these  days  it's  too  dangerous. 
Suppose  we  lived  on  the  tiniest  possible  income,  and 
then  you  fell  ill, — or  I  did, — or  you  lost  your  posi 
tion, — or  anything  that  interrupted  our  livelihood, — 
then,  we'd  have  to  go  back  to  mother  or  to  your 
aunt, — and — dost  like  the  picture?" 

"I  dost  not !  It's  out  of  the  question.  I  love  you 
too  much,  and  too  truly  to  take  such  desperate 
chances.  I  think,  after  all,  Dork,  the  Buns  are  our 
one  best  bet !" 

"Binny's    Buns!    'Get    a    Bun!'    Oh,    Rikki,    I 
couldn't  hold  up  my  head !" 
[35] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"I  know  it, — you  little  inborn  aristocrat!  And  I 
feel  the  same  way  about  it.  Well,  we've  got  to  go 
home  and  face  the  music,  I  suppose." 

"Yes,  and  we've  got  to  go  now.  I'll  get  more 
and  worse  scolding  for  every  minute  I  stay  here." 

"Also,  if  Eliza  tells  your  mother,  she'll  be  sending 
Kate  for  you." 

"Yes,  or  coming  herself.    Come  along,  let's  start." 

The  walk  home  was  saddened  by  the  thought  that 
it  was  the  last.  Able  to  face  the  situation,  both  knew 
there  was  no  hope  that  they  should  be  allowed  to 
continue  their  acquaintance,  and  knew  that  now  it 
was  discovered,  they  would  very  soon  be  as  widely 
separated  as  the  efforts  of  their  elders  could  arrange. 

Their  pace  slowed  down  as  they  neared  The  Cam 
panile. 

"Dear  old  place,"  said  Dorcas,  as  the  house  came 
into  their  ken. 

"Dear  old  nothing,"  returned  Bates.  "I  think  it's 
an  eyesore,  don't  you?  That  bunch  of  Mexican 
onyx  ought  to  be  taken  away  to  make  kings'  sar 
cophagi!" 

"What  a  thought!  Yes,  it's  hideous, — but  I 
didn't  mean  its  appearance.  Its  dear  to  me  because 
we've  lived  here  together,  and  I've  a  premonition 
that  before  long  widely  separated  roofs  will  cover 
our  heads. 

"I'll    conquer    somehow!"    Bates    declared.     "I 
haven't  made  many  protestations,  but  I  tell  you, 
Dork,  I'm  coming  out  on  top  of  this  heap!" 
[36] 


A  Tricky  Game 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?  Something  des 
perate?" 

"Maybe  so, — maybe  only  something  queer.  But 
get  you,  I  shall  and  I  will !  You're  intended  for  my 
mate  by  an  Omniscient  Fate,  and  I'm  going  to  find 
some  way  to  help  said  Fate  along.  She  seems  to  be 
sidetracked  for  the  moment." 

"I  wish  I  had  more  faith  in  your  Fate  helping. 
Oh,  don't  look  like  that !  I've  faith  enough  in  you, 
— but  helping  Fate  is  a  tricky  game." 

"All  right,  I'm  willing  to  play  a  tricky  game, 
then!" 

"You  are,  son!    Against  whom?" 

And  the  pair  entering  the  wide  doorway,  met  Sir 
Herbert  Binney  coming  out. 

"Oh,  hello,  Uncle,"  cried  Bates,  grasping  the 
situation  with  both  hands.  "Let  me  present  you  to 
Miss  Everett ;  Dorcas,  this  is  my  uncle." 

"How  do  you  do,  Uncle  Bunny?"  said  Dorcas, 
quite  unwitting  that,  in  her  surprised  embarrass 
ment,  she  had  used  the  very  word  she  had  feared 
she  would  utter ! 

And  an  unfortunate  mistake  it  proved.  The  smil 
ing  face  of  the  Englishman  grew  red  and  wrathful, 
assuming,  as  he  did,  and  not  without  cause,  that  the 
young  woman  intended  to  guy  him. 

"Daughter  of  your  own  mother,  hey?"  he  said  to 
her.  "Ready  with  a  sharp  tongue  for  any  occa 
sion!" 

[37] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Apology  was  useless,  all  that  quick-witted  Dorcas 
could  think  of  was  to  carry  it  off  as  a  jest. 

"No,  sir,"  she  said,  with  an  adorable  glance  of 
coquetry  at  the  angry  face,  "but  I  have  an  unbreak 
able  habit  of  using  nicknames, — and  as  I've  heard 
of  you  from  Ricky,  and  I  almost  feel  as  if  I  knew 
you, — I,  why,  I  just  naturally  called  you  Bunny  for 
a  pet  name." 

"Oho,  you  did!  Well,  I  can't  believe  that.  I 
think  you're  making  fun  of  my  trade!  And  that's 
the  one  thing  I  won't  stand!  Perhaps  when  your 
precious  Ricky  depends  on  those  same  buns  for  his 
daily  food,  you  won't  feel  so  scornful  of  them!" 

"I  never  dreamed  you  were  ashamed  of  them,  sir," 
and  Dorcas  gave  up  the  idea  of  peacemaking  and 
became  irritating. 

"Nor  am  I !"  he  blazed.  "You  are  an  impertinent 
chit,  and  I  bid  you  good-day !" 

"Now  you  liave  done  it!"  said  Bates. 


[38] 


CHAPTER  III 
The  Scrawled  Message 

BUT,  as  it  turned  out,  Dorcas  hadn't  "done  it" 
at  all.  Bates  on  reaching  his  aunt's  apart 
ment  found  no  one  at  home.  But  very  soon 
Sir  Herbert  Binney  appeared. 

"Look  here,  Richard,"  he  began,  "I've  taken  a 
fancy  to  that  little  girl  of  yours " 

"She  isn't  mine." 

"You'd  like  her  to  be?" 

"Very  much;  in  conditions  that  would  please  us 
both."  ' 

"Meaning  Bunless  conditions.  I  can't  offer  you 
those,  but  I  do  say  now,  and,  for  the  last  time,  if  you 
will  take  hold  of  my  Bun  proposition,  I'll  give  you 
any  salary  you  want,  any  interest  in  the  business  you 
ask,  and  make  you  my  sole  heir.  I've  already  done 
the  last,  but  unless  you  fall  in  with  my  plans  now, 
I'm  going  to  make  another  will  and  your  name  will 
be  among  the  missing." 

"But,  Uncle  Herbert " 

"I've  no  time  for  discussion,  my  boy;  I've  to 
dress  for  Dinner, — I'm  going  out, — but  this  thing 
must  be  settled  now,  as  far  as  you're  concerned. 
[39] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


You've  had  time  enough  to  think  it  over,  you've  had 
time  to  discuss  it  with  that  pretty  little  girl  of  yours, 
— my,  but  her  eyes  flashed  as  she  called  me  Uncle 
Bunny !  It  was  a  slip, — I  saw  that,  and  I  pretended 
to  be  annoyed,  but  I  liked  her  all  the  better  for  her 
sauciness.  Well,  Richard, — yes  or  no?" 

"Can't  you  give  me  another  twenty-four  hours  ?" 

"Not  twenty- four  minutes !  You've  hemmed  and 
hawed  over  this  thing  as  long  as  I'll  stand  it !  No. 
You  know  all  the  details,  all  the  advantages  that  I 
offer  you.  You  know  I  mean  what  I  say  and  I'll 
stand  by  every  word.  I'm  going  to  meet  the  head 
of  a  big  American  concern  to-night,  and  if  you  turn 
me  down,  I  shall  probably  make  a  deal  with  him. 
I'd  rather  keep  my  business  and  my  fortune  in  the 
family,  but  if  you  say  no,  out  you  go!  So,  as  a 
countryman  of  yours  expressed  it  to-day,  you  can 
put  up  or  shut  up !" 

"All  right,  sir, — I'll  shut  up !"  and  Richard  Bates 
turned  on  his  heel,  while  Sir  Herbert  Binney  went 
out  of  the  apartment  and  slammed  the  door  behind 
him. 

Almost  immediately  Miss  Gurney  came  in. 

"My  stars,  Ricky !"  she  exclaimed,  "I  met  Sir 
Binney  Bun  in  the  hall  and  he  looked  as  if  somebody 
had  broken  his  heart!  Has  his  pet  chorus  girl 
given  him  the  mitten?" 

"No ;  I  gave  it  to  him.  He  wants  me  to  sell  his 
precious  pies  over  a  counter, — and  I  can't  see  myself 
doing  it." 

[40] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


"I  should  say  not !  It's  a  mystery  to  me  how  the 
aristocracy  of  England  go  into  trade,  and  if  it's  a 
big  enough  deal,  they  think  it's  all  right.  If  it's 
tea  or  bread  or  soap,  it  doesn't  matter,  so  they  sell 
enough  of  it.  Well,  young  man,  what  about  your 
escapade  in  the  Park?  Shall  I  tell  your  aunt?" 

"You  said  you  intended  to, — do  as  you  like." 

"I  won't  tell  her,  if " 

"Oh,  you'd  better  tell  me — what  is  it?" 

The  cool,  incisive  tones  of  Miss  Prall  interrupted 
the  speakers  and  Richard's  aunt  calmly  gazed  at  him 
and  then  at  Miss  Gurney,  as  she  came  into  the  room, 
seated  herself,  and  began  drawing  off  her  gloves. 

"I'll  tell  you  myself,  Aunt  Letitia,"  said  Bates. 
"I'm  old  enough  not  to  be  bossed  and  ballyragged 
by  you  two  women!  Forgive  me,  Aunt  Letty,  but, 
truly,  Eliza  makes  me  so  mad " 

"Go  out,  Eliza,"  said  Miss  Prall,  and  Eliza  went. 

"Now,  Ricky  boy,  what  is  it?  About  Sir  Herbert, 
of  course.  And  I'll  stand  by  you, — if  you  don't 
want  to  go  into  his  business,  you  shan't " 

"It  isn't  that  at  all,  Aunt  Letitia.  Or,  at  least, 
that  is  in  the  air,  too, — up  in  the  air,  in  fact, — but 
what  Eliza  is  going  to  tell  you, — and  I  prefer  to  tell 
you  myself, — is  that  I'm  in  love  with " 

"Oh,  Richard,  I  am  so  glad!  You  dear  boy. 
I've  felt  for  a  long  time  that  if  you  were  interested 
in  one  girl — some  sweet  young  girl, — you'd  have  a 

sort  of  anchor  and " 

[41] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Yes,  but  wait  a  minute, — you  don't  know  who 
she  is." 

"And  I  don't  care!  I  mean,  I  know  you'd  love 
only  a  dear,  innocent  nature, — but  tell  me  all  about 
her." 

Miss  Frail's  plain  face  was  lighted  with  happy 
smiles  of  interest  and  eager  anticipation,  and  she 
drew  her  chair  nearer  her  nephew  as  she  waited  for 
him  to  speak. 

Bates  looked  at  her,  dreading  to  shatter  her  hopes, 
• — as  he  knew  his  next  words  must  do. 

"Well,  to  begin  with, — she  is  Dorcas  Everett." 

Miss  Prall's  eyes  opened  in  a  wide,  unbelieving 
stare,  her  face  paled  slowly,  her  very  lips  seemed  to 
grow  white,  so  intense  and  concentrated  was  her 
anger. 

"No !"  she  said,  at  last,  in  a  low  tense  voice,  "you 
don't  mean  that.  Richard !  you  can't  mean  it, — after 
all  I've  done  for  you,  after  all  I've  hoped  for  you, — 
and, — I've  loved  you  so " 

"Now,  auntie,  listen;  just  you  forget  and  forgive 
all  this  old  feud  business, — for  my  sake, — and 
Dorcas' ;  be  noble,  rise  above  your  old,  petty  quarrel 
with  Mrs  Everett,  and  give  us  your  bond  of  peace 
as  a  wedding  present." 

His  pleading  tones,  his  hopeful  smile  held  Miss 
Prall's  attention  for  a  moment,  and  then  she  blazed 
forth : 

"Richard  Bates,  I  cannot  believe  It.  Ingrate! 
Snake  in  the  grass !  To  deceive  me, — to  carry  on  an 
[42] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


affair  like  this,  for  you  must  have  done  so, — under 
my  very  nose,  and  keep  it  all  so  sly!  Dorcas 
Everett !  daughter  of  my  enemy, — my  long  time  foe, 
— the  most  despicable  woman  in  the  world!  And, 
knowing  all  about  it,  you  deliberately  cultivate  the 
acquaintance  of  her  daughter  and  secretly  go  on  to 
the  point  of  wanting  to  marry  her!  I  can't  believe 
it!  It's  too  monstrous!  Were  there  no  other 
girls  in  the  world, — in  your  life, — that  you  must 
choose  that  one  ?  You  can't  have  been  so  diabolical 
as  to  have  done  it  purposely  to  break  my  heart !" 

"Oh,  no,  Auntie,  I  didn't  do  that !  I  chanced  to 
meet  Dorcas, — one  day  at  Janet  Fayre's, — and, 
somehow,  we  both  fell  in  love  at  once !" 

"Stop!  don't  tell  me  another  word!  Get  out, 
Eliza !"  as  Miss  Gurney  reappeared  at  the  door.  "I 
told  you  to  get  out !  Now,  stay  out !  Get  away  from 
me,  Richard;  you  can't  help  any  by  trying  to  fawn 
around  me!  You  don't  know  what  you've  done, — 
I  grant  you  that!  You  don't  know — you  can't 
know, — how  you've  crucified  me !" 

Springing  up  from  her  chair,  Miss  Prall  darted 
from  the  room,  and  out  into  the  hall.  Down  one 
flight  of  stairs  she  ran,  and  furiously  pealed  the  bell 
of  Mrs  Everett's  apartment  on  the  floor  below. 

The  maid  who  opened  the  door  was  startled  at 
the  visitor's  appearance,  but  the  angry  caller  asked 
for  no  one;  she  pushed  her  way  past  the  servant, 
and  faced  Mrs  Everett  in  her  own  reception  room. 

"Do  you  know  what's  going  on,  Adeline  Everett  ? 
[43] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Do  you  know  that  your  daughter  is — is  interested 
in  my  nephew  ?  Answer  me  that !" 

VI  don't  know  it,  and  I  don't  believe  it,"  returned 
Mrs  Everett,  a  plump,  blonde  matron,  whose  touched- 
up  golden  hair  was  allowed  to  show  no  gray,  and 
whose  faintly  pink  cheeks  were  solicitously  cared 
for. 

"Ask  her!"  quivered  Letitia  Frail's  angry  voice, 
and  she  clenched  her  long  thin  fingers  in  ill-controlled 
rage. 

"I  will;  she's  in  the  next  room.  Come  in  here, 
Dorcas.  Tell  Miss  Prall  she  is  mistaken, — pre 
sumptuously  mistaken." 

The  haughty  stare  with  which  the  hostess  re 
garded  her  guest  continued  until  Dorcas,  coming  in, 
said,  with  a  pretty  blush  and  smile,  "I'm  afraid  she 
isn't  mistaken,  Mother." 

"Just  what  do  you  mean?"  Mrs  Everett  asked, 
icily,  transferring  her  gaze  to  her  daughter. 

Very  sweet  and  appealing  Dorcas  looked  as  she 
realized  the  crucial  moment  had  arrived.  Now  she 
must  take  her  stand  for  all  time.  Her  big,  dark 
eyes  turned  from  one  furious  face  to  the  other  as 
the  two  women  waited  her  response.  Her  face  paled 
a  little  as  she  saw  their  attitude,  their  implacable 
wrath,  their  hatred  of  each  other,  and  their  momen 
tarily  suspended  judgment  of  herself.  Yet  she  stood 
her  ground.  With  a  pretty  dignity,  she  spoke  quietly 
and  in  a  calm,  steady  voice  : 

"I  heard  what  Miss  Prall  said,"  she  began,  "I 
[443 


The  Scrawled  Message 


couldn't  help  it,  as  I  was  so  near,  and  all  I  can  say 
is,  that  it  is  true.  I  am  not  only  interested  in 
Richard  Bates,  but  I  love  him.  He  loves  me, — and 
we  hope — oh,  mumsie, — be  kind ! — we  hope  you  two 
will  make  up  your  quarrel  for  our  sakes !" 

"Go  to  your  room,  Dorcas,"  her  mother  said,  and 
in  those  words  the  girl  read  her  doom.  She  knew 
her  mother  well,  and  she  saw  beyond  all  shadow  of 
doubt  that  there  was  no  leniency  -to  be  hoped  for. 
She  sensed  in  her  mother's  expression  as  she  pro 
nounced  the  short  sentence,  an  absolute  and  immut 
able  decision.  She  might  as  well  plead  for  the  moon, 
as  for  her  mother's  permission  to  be  interested  in 
Letitia  Frail's  nephew. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  countermanded  Miss  Prall. 
"Answer  me  this,  Dorcas.  Are  you  and  my  nephew 
engaged?  Has  it  come  to  that?" 

"Yes,"  the  girl  answered,  thinking  quickly,  and 
deciding  it  best  to  force  the  issue. 

"Hush!"  commanded  her  mother;  "go  to  your 
room !" 

Mrs  Everett  fairly  pushed  her  daughter  through 
the  door,  closed  it,  and  then  said :  "There  is  little 
need  of  further  remark  on  this  subject.  We  might 
have  known  it  would  come, — at  least  we  might  have 
feared  it.  One  of  us  must  leave  this  house.  Will 
you  go  or  shall  I  ?" 

"You  take  no  thought  of  the  young  people's  heart 
break?" 

"I  do  not!  Dorcas  will  get  over  it;  I  don't  care 
[45] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


whether  your  nephew  does  or  not.  I  can  take  care 
of  my  child,  and  that's  all  that  interests  me." 

"You  think  you  can, — but  perhaps  you  do  not 
know  the  depth  of  their  attachment  or  the  strength 
of  their  wills." 

"It  is  not  for  you,  an  unmarried  woman,  to  in 
struct  me  in  the  ways  of  young  lovers!  I  repeat, 
Letitia  Prall,  I  can  take  care  of  my  daughter.  Her 
welfare  in  no  way  concerns  you.  I  am  only  thankful 
We  discovered  this  state  of  things  before  it  is  too 
late.  Good  Heavens!  You  don't  suppose  it  is  too 
late,  do  you?" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  don't  suppose  those  young  idiots  are — 
married !" 

"Of  course  not!  My  Richard  is  above  such  clan 
destine  ways !" 

"Your  Richard  isn't  above  anything !  My  Dorcas 
is,  but — he  might  have  persuaded  her — oh,  well,  I'll 
attend  to  Dorcas.  There  is  no  need  for  you  to  tarry 
longer." 

The  exaggerated  courtesy  of  her  manner  goaded 
Miss  Prall  to  rudeness. 

"I  shall  stay  as  long  as  I  like,"  she  returned,  stub 
bornly  sitting  still.  "There  is  more  to  be  said, 
Adeline  Everett.  There  is  more  to  be  done.  I  want 
your  assurance  that  you  will  move  away, — it  doesn't 
suit  my  plans  to  leave  this  house, — and  that  you  will 
take  your  forward  and  designing  daughter  far 
[46] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


enough  to  keep  her  from  maneuvering  to  ensnare  my 
nephew." 

"I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  take  my  daughter  away 
from  the  vicinity  of  your  crack-brained  charge! 
What  has  Dick  Bates  ever  done?  He  has  never 
earned  a  dollar  for  himself !" 

"He  doesn't  need  to.  He  is  a  genius ;  he  will  yet 
astonish  the  world  with  his  inventions.  You  know 
me  well  enough  to  know  that  I  speak  truth.  More 
over,  he  is  his  uncle's  sole  heir ! 

"Binney,  the  Bun  man !" 

"Yes,  Sir  Herbert  Binney,  proprietor  of  the 
famous  Binney's  Buns.  But,  look  here,  Adeline," 
the  absorption  in  her  nephew's  interest  blotted  out 
for  the  moment  her  scorn  of  the  other  woman, 
"Uncle  Binney  favors  the  match." 

"What  match  ?"    Mrs  Everett  was  honestly  blank. 

"Between  Richard  and  Dorcas." 

"Why,  he  doesn't  know  Dorcas." 

"He  has  seen  her,  and  anyway,  he'd  approve  of 
any  nice  girl  that  Rick  cared  for.  You  see,  Sir 
Herbert  wanted  the  boy  to  marry  and  settle  down 
and  become  the  American  branch  of  Binney's  Buns." 

"My  daughter  the  wife  of  a  baker!  No,  thank 
you!  You  know  me,  Letitia  Prall,  well  enough  to 
know  my  ambitions  for  Dorcas.  She  shall  marry 
the  man  I  choose  for  her, — and  he  will  not  be  a 
baker !  Nor,"  and  her  face  was  drawn  with  sudden 
anger,  "nor  will  he  be  Richard  Bates !" 
[47] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Indeed  he  will  not!"  and  Miss  Prall  rose  and 
flounced  out  of  the  place. 

In  his  own  small  but  attractive  apartment,  Sir 
Herbert  Binney  was  dressing  for  dinner.  Always  a 
careful  dresser,  he  was  unusually  particular  this  eve 
ning.  His  man,  Peters,  thought  he  had  never  seen 
his  master  so  fussed  over  the  minor  details  of  his 
apparel.  Also,  Sir  Herbert  was  preoccupied. 
Usually  he  chatted  cheerily,  but  to-night  he  was 
thoughtful,  almost  moody. 

"A  cab,  sir?"  said  Peters,  half  afraid  that  he'd 
be  snapped  at  for  asking  an  unnecessary  question, 
yet  not  quite  certain  that  a  cab  was  desired. 

"Yes,"  was  the  absent-minded  response,  and 
Peters  passed  on  the  word  by  telephone  to  the  door 
man  below. 

Then,  satisfactorily  turned  out,  Sir  Herbert  left 
his  rooms  and  touched  the  elevator  bell. 

Once  in  the  car,  and  seeing  the  pretty  elevator  girl, 
his  mood  brightened. 

"Good  evening,  Daisy,"  he  said,  "give  me  one  kiss 
for  good  luck.  This  is  my  busy  day." 

He  carelessly  put  an  arm  round  her,  and  kissed 
her  lightly  on  the  lips,  even  as  he  spoke.  The  girl 
was  taken  by  surprise,  and  anger  surged  up  in  her 
soul. 

"You  coward !"  she  cried,  wrenching  herself  free 
with  difficulty  and  mindful  of  her  elevator  gear. 
"Take  shame  to  yourself,  sir,  for  insulting  a  defense 
less  girl!" 

[48] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


"Oh,  come  now,  chicken,  that  didn't  hurt  you! 
I'm  only  a  jollier.  Forget  it,  and  I'll  give  you  a  big 
box  of  candy." 

"I'll  never  forget  it,  sir,  and  if  you  try  that 
again " 

The  dire  threat  was  not  pronounced,  for  just  then 
the  car  reached  the  ground  floor,  and  the  girl  flung 
the  door  open. 

Nearby  at  the  telephone  switchboard  was  another 
girl,  who  looked  up  curiously  as  the  Bun  man  came 
out  of  the  elevator.  She  had  overheard  the  angry 
voice  that  seemed  to  be  threatening  him,  and  she 
was  not  without  knowledge  of  his  ways  herself. 

But  Sir  Herbert  waved  his  hand  gayly  at  the  tele 
phone  girl  and  also  at  the  news  stand  girl.  Indeed  all 
girls  were,  in  Binney's  estimation,  born  to  be  waved 
at. 

He  had  recovered  his  good  nature,  and  he  went 
along  the  onyx  lobby  with  a  quick  stride,  looking  at 
his  watch  as  he  walked. 

"Taxi  ready?"  he  said  to  the  obsequious  doorman. 

"Yes,  sir, — yes,  Sir  Herbert.     Here  you  are." 

"And  here  you  are,"  the  Englishman  returned, 
with  a  generous  bestowal  of  silver. 

"To  the  Hotel  Magnifique,"  he  said,  and  his  cab 
rolled  away. 

During  the  evening  hours  the  attendants  of  The 

Campanile  shifted.    The  elevator  girls  were  replaced 

by   young  men,   and   the   telephone   operator  was 

changed.     The   doorman,    too,   was   another   indi- 

[49] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


vidual,  and  by  midnight  no  one  was  on  duty  who  had 
been  on  at  dusk. 

After  midnight,  the  attendants  were  fewer  still, 
and  after  two  o'clock  Bob  Moore,  the  capable  and 
efficient  night  porter,  was  covering  the  door,  tele 
phone  and  elevator  all  by  himself. 

This  arrangement  was  always  sufficient,  as  most 
of  the  occupants  of  The  Campanile  were  average 
citizens,  who,  if  at  theater  or  party,  were  rarely  out 
later  than  one  or  two  in  the  morning. 

On  this  particular  night,  Moore  welcomed  four 
or  five  theater-goers  back  home,  took  them  up  to 
their  suites  and  then  sat  for  a  long  time  uninter 
ruptedly  reading  a  detective  story,  which  was  his 
favorite  brand  of  fiction. 

At  two  o'clock  Mr  Goodwin  came  in,  and  Moore 
took  him  up  to  the  twelfth  floor. 

Returning  to  his  post  and  to  his  engrossing  book, 
the  next  arrival  was  Mr  Vail.  He  belonged  on  the 
tenth  floor  and  as  they  ascended,  Moore,  full  of  his 
story,  said: 

"Ever  read  detective  stories,  Mr  Vail?" 

"Occasionally;  but  I  haven't  much  time  for  read 
ing.  Business  men  like  more  active  recreation." 

"Likely  so,  sir.  But  I  tell  you  this  yarn  I'm  swal 
lowing  is  a  corker !" 

"What's  it  called?" 

"  'Murder  Will  Out,'  by  Joe  Jarvis.  It's  great ! 
Why,  Mr  Vail,  the  victim  was  killed, — killed,  mind 

you, — in  a  room  that  was  all  locked  up " 

[50] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


"How  did  the  murderer  get  in?" 

"That's  just  it!  How  did  he?  And  he  left  his 
revolver, " 

"Left  his  revolver?  Then  he  did  get  in  and  get 
out !  Must  have  been  a  secret  passage " 

"No,  sir,  there  wasn't !  That  is,  the  author  says 
so,  and  all  the  people, — the  characters,  you  know, 
try  to  find  one,  and  they  can't !  Oh,  it's  exciting,  I'll 
say !  I  can't  guess  how  it's  coming  out." 

"I  suppose  you  wouldn't  peek  over  to  the  last 
page?" 

"No,  that  spoils  a  story  for  me.  The  fun  I  get 
out  of  it  is  the  trying  to  ferret  out  the  solution,  on 
my  own.  That's  sport  for  me.  Why,  you  see,  Mr 
Vail, — but,  excuse  me,  sir,  I'm  keeping  you." 

The  elevator  had  stopped  at  the  tenth  floor,  and 
Vail  had  left  the  car,  but  he  stood  waiting  till  the 
enthusiastic  Moore  should  pause. 

"Oh,  well,  go  on, — what  were  you  saying?" 

"Only  this,  sir.  To  me,  a  good  detective  story  is 
not  the  one  that  keeps  you  guessing, — nor  the  one 
that  keeps  you  in  fearful  suspense  as  to  the  outcome, 
but  the  one  that  gives  you  a  chance  to  solve  the 
riddle  yourself.  The  one  that  puts  all  the  cards  on 
the  table,  and  gives  you  a  chance  at  it." 

"And  you  can  usually  work  it  out  ?" 

"Sometimes, — not  always.  But  the  fun  is  in  try 
ing." 

"You  ought  to  have  been  a  detective,  Moore. 
You've  the  taste  for  it  evidently.  Well,  good-night ; 

[51]   " 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


hope  you  discover  the  clue  and  solve  the  mystery. 
Shall  you  finish  your  book  to-night?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir.  I'm  more  than  half  way  through 
it." 

"Well,  tell  me  in  the  morning  if  you  guessed  right. 
Good-night,  Moore." 

"Good-night,  Mr.  Vail." 

The  elevator  went  down,  and  Bob  Moore  left  the 
car  to  return  to  his  book. 

But  he  did  not  return  to  the  story.  A  more  en 
grossing  one  was  opened  to  him  at  that  moment. 
A  glance  toward  the  front  doorway  showed  him 
a  figure  of  a  man,  lying  in  a  contorted  heap  on  the 
floor,  about  half  way  between  himself  and  the  en 
trance. 

He  went  wonderingly  toward  it,  his  heart  beating 
faster  as  he  drew  near. 

"Dead!"  he  breathed  softly,  to  himself,  "no,  not 
dead! — oh,  my  God,  it's  Sir  Herbert  Binney!" 

In  the  onyx  lobby,  at  the  very  foot  of  one  of  the 
tall  ornate  capitaled  columns  was  the  prostrate 
Binney.  Apparently  he  was  a  dying  man ;  blood  was 
flowing  from  some  wound,  his  face  was  drawn  in 
convulsive  agony,  from  his  stiffening  fingers  he  let 
fall  a  pencil,  but  his  lips  were  framing  inarticulate 
words. 

Bob  Moore's  wits  did  not  desert  him.  Instead,  his 
thoughts  seemed  to  flash  with  uncanny  quickness. 

"Binney's  dying,"  he  told  himself,  "he's  been 
murdered!  Gee!  what  an  excitement  there  will  be! 

[52] 


The  Scrawled  Message 


He's  babbling, — he's  going  to  tell  who  killed  him! 
If  I  scoot  for  Doctor  Pagett,  this  chap'll  be  dead 
before  I  get  back, — if  I  wait, — I'll  be  called  down 
for  not  going — but  I  must  get  it  out  of  him, — if  I 
can — what  is  that,  Sir,  try  to  tell  me " 

Bending  over  the  stricken  man,  Moore  listened 
intently,  and  caught  the  words, — or  words  which 
sounded  like, — "Get — them — get  J — J — anyway, — 
get-J " 

With  a  sudden  gasping  gurgle,  the  man  was  dead. 

Bewildered,  but  striving  hard  to  grasp  the  situa 
tion  and  do  his  exact  duty,  Moore  looked  about,  and 
quickly  concluded  his  next  move  was  to  call  the  doc 
tor. 

Pagett,  on  the  second  floor,  was  the  physician  of 
the  house,  and  Moore  raced  up  the  stairs  to  his 
apartment. 

Ringing  the  bell  continuously  brought  the  doctor 
to  the  door. 

"What's  happened  ?"  he  said,  sleepily. 

"Murder!"  answered  Moore,  briefly.  "Hike  into 
some  clothes  and  get  downstairs.  Sir  Herbert 
Binney's  been  done  for!" 

Not  waiting,  Moore  ran  back  down  the  stairs,  and 
took  his  station  guarding  the  dead  man.  He  re 
solved  to  touch  nothing,  but  his  attention  at  once 
fell  on  a  bit  of  paper,  on  which  Binney  had  evidently 
been  scrawling  some  message,  with  the  pencil  that 
had  at  last  fallen  from  his  nerveless  fingers. 
[53] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Careful  not  to  touch  the  paper,  Moore  devoured 
it  with  his  eyes. 

This  is  what  he  read : 


[54] 


CHAPTER  IV 
The  Busy  Police 

BUT  even  the  astonishing  disclosure  of  the 
scrawled  statement  did  not  cause  Bob  Moore 
to  lose  his  head.  Excited  and  startled  though 
he  was,  he  was  also  alertly  conscious  that  he  must 
conduct  himself  with  care.  He  had  a  vague  fear 
that  he  might  be  connected  with  the  case  and  weirdly 
enough  he  had  a  secret  fear  that  he  might  not ! 

Already  in  fancy  he  saw  himself  doing  mar- 
velously  clever  detective  work  that  should  result  in 
getting  the  criminal  of  whom  the  dying  efforts  of 
the  victim  strove  to  tell  him.  But  he  must  be  care 
ful  not  to  put  himself  forward,  not  to  overstep  his 
privileges,  and,  above  all,  not  to  seem  too  eager  to 
help  in  the  search  for  the  murderer,  for  he  felt  sure 
his  offers  of  assistance  would  be  deemed  presump 
tuous. 

Doctor  Pagett  came  running  down  the  stairs, 
knotting  his  necktie  as  he  descended. 

"Binney!"  he  exclaimed;  "the  Englishman  who 
makes  Buns.  What's  this  paper?" 

"I  haven't  touched  it,  Doctor;  I  haven't  touched 
anything.  You  can  see  for  yourself  what  the  paper 
says." 

[551 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Women  did  this,"  said  the  doctor,  his  eyes  fairly 
bulging;  "what — what  does  it  mean?  Where  were 
you?" 

"Up  at  the  tenth  floor,  taking  Mr  Vail  up.  He 
came  in, — there  was  no  Binney  about  then! — and 
I  took  him  up  in  the  elevator  to  his  floor,  and  when 
I  came  down,  Mr  Binney  was  there  just  as  you  see 
him  now, — only,  he  was  still  alive." 

"Alive!" 

"Yes,  sir, — just  dying.  He  mumbled  a  word  or 
two " 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  said — 'Get — get '   but   he   couldn't   say 

who.     That's  all, — then  he  drew  a  long  breath  and 
died." 

"You  came  straight  to  me  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  flew !  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  hesi 
tate  that  moment,  in  case  he  might  get  out  the 
name  of  the  murderer." 

"I  think  you  did  all  right,  Moore.  He's  surely 
dead, — and,  just  as  surely,  he  was  murdered.  And 
by  women!  But  how  is  it  possible?  However, 
that's  not  my  province.  We  must  get  the  police,  and 
also,  notify  his  people.  He  lived  in  the  Prall  apart 
ment,  didn't  he?" 

"No;  he  was  there  a  lot;  they're  his  relatives,  I 
believe,  but  he  had  his  own  apartment,  a  small  one 
on  the  eighth  floor.  Miss  Prall,  she's  on  the  eighth, 
too,  shall  I  call  her  up  ?" 

[56] 


The  Busy  Police 


"Oh,  that's  pretty  awful.  Call  the  nephew,  young 
Bates,  first." 

"Shall  I  telephone  or  go  up  there ?" 

"Go  up — no,  telephone, — somebody  might  come 
in,  and  want  you." 

"Hello,"  Richard  Bates  responded  to  Moore's 
telephone  call. 

"Mr.  Bates?" 

"Yes." 

"Will  you  come  downstairs,  sir,  right  away? 
There's  been  a — an  accident.  Mr.  Binney, — that  is, 
Sir  Binney,  you  know, — he's — he's " 

"Well,  he's  what?" 

"He's — oh,  come  down,  sir,  please!" 

Moore  hung  up  his  receiver,  for  his  nerve  sud 
denly  deserted  him  when  it  came  to  telling  the  dread 
ful  fact  of  the  tragedy. 

In  a  few  moments  the  elevator  bell  sounded  and 
Moore  went  up  to  bring  Bates  down. 

"What  is  it?"  Bates  asked.  "Is  my  uncle — er, — 
lit  up?" 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  and  Bob  Moore  looked  shocked,  "it 
isn't  that,  at  all.  It's  worse  than  that, — it's  an  acci 
dent." 

"What  sort  of  an  accident?  Taxi  smash-up? 
Any  kind  of  a  stroke?" 

But  by  this  time  they  were  down  to  the  street 
floor,  and  the  two  men  stepped  out  of  the  car. 

Seeing  the  doctor,  who  was  still  bending  over 
the  inert  figure  on  the  floor,  Bates  hurried  along  the 

[57] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


onyx  lobby  till  he  reached  the  scene,  and  could  see, 
without  being  told,  what  had  happened. 

A  moment  he  gazed  in  silence  at  his  uncle's  face, 
and  then  said,  excitedly,  "Who  did  this  ?  How  was 
he  killed  ?  Why  should  anybody " 

Silently  the  doctor  pointed  to  the  paper  on  the 
floor  at  the  dead  man's  side. 

Bates  read  it,  and  looked  up  wonderingly. 

"Don't  touch  it,"  warned  the  physician  as  the 
young  man  stretched  out  his  hand.  "It's  a  clew, — 
the  police  must  take  charge  of  it." 

"The  police !  Oh,  yes, — of  course, — it's  a  murder, 
isn't  it?" 

"You  bet  it's  a  murder !"  exclaimed  Moore.  "And 
done  by  women !  Oh,  gee !  what  a  case  it  will  be !" 

"Hush  up!"  Bates  cried,  angrily.  "Don't  talk 
like  that  in  the  presence  of  the  dead !  We  must  send 
for  an  undertaker." 

"Not  yet,"  demurred  Doctor  Pagett.  "In  a  case 
like  this,  the  police  must  be  notified  first  of  all." 

"Not  first  of  all,"  said  Bates,  slowly,  as  his  mind 
began  to  work ;  "we  must  tell  my  aunt,  Miss  Prall." 

"Yes,  of  course,  but  the  police  must  be  sent  for." 

"Sure,"  put  in  Bob  Moore,  who  was  gaining  confi 
dence  in  his  own  importance,  "I  must  get  this  matter 
hushed  up  before  people  begin  to  get  around.  Lucky 
it  happened  in  the  night!  It's  none  too  good  an 
advertisement  for  the  house !" 

"I  think  I'll  go  up  and  tell  my  aunt  myself,"  said 
Bates,  thoughtfully.  "You  stay  here  by — by  the 
[58] 


The  Busy  Police 


body,  Doctor.  And,  I  say, — what — how  was  he 
killed?" 

"Stabbed,"  said  the  doctor,  shortly. 

"What  with?" 

"I  don't  know, — except  that  it  was  with  a  sharp 
blade  of  some  sort.  There's  no  weapon  in  sight." 

"No  weapon!    How  queer!" 

"Queer  or  not,  I  can't  find  any.  It's  a  pretty 
strange  affair,  to  my  mind.  Yes,  I'll  stay  here,  you 
go  and  tell  your  aunt's  people,  and, — Moore,  you 
come  right  back  after  you  take  Mr  Bates  up." 

In  silence  the  return  trip  was  made  in  the  ele 
vator,  for  Bates  was  thinking  how  he  should  break 
the  news  to  the  two  excitable  women  upstairs,  and 
Bob  Moore's  thoughts  were  in  such  a  riot,  that  he 
was  trying  hard  to  straighten  them  out. 

In  front  of  Miss  Frail's  bedroom  door,  her 
nephew  hesitated  for  some  time  before  knocking. 
Not  only  was  his  courage  weak  but  his  brain  was 
receiving  so  many  sudden  jolts  that  he  could 
scarcely  control  his  voice.  Why,  now,  he  was  his 
uncle's  heir.  Unless  he  had  already  changed  that 
will!  Had  he? 

At  last,  with  a  gentle  knock,  repeated  more  loudly, 
and  finally  with  a  fusillade  of  raps,  he  succeeded  in 
rousing  Miss  Prall,  who  demanded,  with  asperity, 
"Who's  there?" 

"Me;  Rick.    Open  the  door,  please." 

"What's  the  matter?  You  sick?"  his  aunt 
exclaimed,  as  she  unlocked  her  door. 

[59] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"No;  now,  listen,  Aunt  Letitia,  and  don't  faint — 
for  anything.  Uncle  Binney  is — has  been — why, 
somebody  killed  him!" 

"Killed  him!    Is  he  dead?" 

"Yes,  ma'am";  both  were  unaware  of  the  ab 
surdity  of  the  words,  "he's  downstairs, — in  the 
lobby, — and  he's  been  stabbed." 

Richard's  teeth  were  chattering  from  the  tension 
of  his  nerves,  and  the  horror  of  the  situation,  but 
Miss  Frail's  nerves  were  strong  ones,  and  she  said, 
"I'll  dress  and  go  right  down.  And  I'll  tell  Eliza, — 
you  needn't.  Go  in  the  living-room  and  wait  for  me 
there." 

Rather  relieved  at  not  being  sent  back  downstairs 
and  decidedly  willing  to  let  his  aunt  break  the  news 
to  Miss  Gurney,  Bates  went  to  his  own  room  and 
added  some  finishing  touches  to  the  hasty  toilet  he 
had  made.  Then  he  awaited  his  aunt,  as  directed, 
and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  she  appeared,  all 
dressed  and  impatient  to  go  downstairs. 

"We  won't  wait  for  Eliza,"  she  i>aid;  "come 
along."  Oh,  no,  wait  a  minute!"  She  returned  to 
her  bedroom,  and  shortly  reappeared. 

Her  vigorous  push  of  the  elevator  button  brought 
Moore  quickly,  and  he  took  them  down. 

Miss  Prall  strode  rapidly  along  the  lobby  and 
spoke  brusquely  to  the  doctor. 

"What  are  you  doing?  Why  do  you  touch  him 
before  the  police  arrive?" 

"Good  Lord,  how  you  startled  me!"  exclaimed 
[60] 


The  Busy  Police 


Doctor  Pagett,  who  in  his  absorption  had  not  heard 
her  approach.  "I  have  a  perfect  right  to  examine 
the  body,  ma'am,"  he  went  on  indignantly.  "Do 
you  suppose  I  don't  know  my  business?" 

"I've  always  heard  no  one  must  touch  a  murdered 
man  until " 

"Then  how  are  we  to  know  it  is  a  murder?"  he 
countered,  looking  at  her  keenly.  "Will  you  read 
that  paper,  Miss  Prall?  Don't  touch  it!" 

"Women  did  this,"  she  read,  aloud.  "Well,  I'm 
not  surprised.  If  ever  a  man  was  mixed  up  with 
women, — of  all  sorts,  it  was  Sir  Herbert!  But 
what  women  did  it  ?  Where  are  they  ?" 

She  looked  about,  as  if  expecting  to  see  the  crim 
inals  cowering  in  the  shadows  or  behind  the  great 
columns  of  the  lobby. 

"They  have  disappeared, — not  an  uncommon  pro 
cedure,"  returned  the  doctor,  dryly.  "And  they 
have  taken  with  them  the  weapon  with  which  the 
crime  was  committed,  thus  removing  a  most  im 
portant  clue!  Have  you  any  suspicion — in  any 
direction?" 

Doctor  Pagett  shot  this  query  at  her  with  such 
sharp  suddenness  that  Miss  Prall  almost  jumped. 

"I !"  she  exclaimed  loudly.  "How  could  I  know 
anything  about  this  man  or  his  women  ?  He's  noth 
ing  to  me !" 

"He  is  your  nephew's  uncle." 

"Well,  that  makes  him  no  kin  of  mine,  does  it?" 
Don't  you  dare  mix  me  up  in  this  thing !" 
[61] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Nobody's  mixing  you  up  in  it,  ma'am,"  and,  in 
differently,  the  physician  returned  his  attention  to 
the  dead  man,  and  became  engrossed  in  studying 
the  writing  on  the  paper. 

And  then,  as  three  men  from  Police  Headquarters 
appeared  at  the  front  end  of  the  long  lobby,  Eliza 
Gurney  stepped  from  the  elevator  at  the  other  end. 
Apparently  she  was  holding  herself  well  in  hand, 
for,  though  her  face  was  white  and  drawn  with 
fear,  her  firm  set  lips  and  clenched  hands  betokened 
a  resolve  not  to  give  way  to  nerves  in  any  fashion. 

"Let  me  see  him,"  she  said,  in  steady  tones. 

"Who  are  you,  madam?"  said  Officer  Kelsey,  re 
senting  her  determined  push  forward. 

"I'm  Miss  Gurney,  the  companion  of  Miss  Prall," 
and  the  air  with  which  she  made  the  announcement 
would  have  fitted  a  grand  duchess. 

Impressed,  the  policeman  made  way  for  her,  and 
then  continued  his  questioning. 

"Who's  in  command  here?"  he  said.  "Who's 
nearest  of  kin?" 

At  the  first  question,  Miss  Prall  stepped  forward, 
but  at  the  second,  she  fell  back  in  favor  of  Richard 
Bates. 

"I  am,"  Bates  said,  quietly.  "He  is  my  uncle,  Sir 
Herbert  Binney." 

Further  statistics  were  ascertained  and  then  the 

police  began  actual  investigation.    The  detective  was 

the  smallest  and  least  conspicuous  man  of  the  three, 

and  his  unassuming  air  and  somewhat  stupid-looking 

[62] 


The  Busy  Police 


face  would  have  carried  a  conviction  of  his  utter 
incompetency,  save  for  his  alert,  darting  black  eyes, 
that  seemed  to  look  in  several  directions  at  once, 
so  rapidly  did  they  roll  about. 

Corson  was  his  name,  and  he  asked  questions  so 
quickly  and  so  continuously  that  he  scarce  waited 
for  answers. 

"Where  had  he  been?"  he  flung  out.  "Who  saw 
him  come  in?  Who  was  on  door  duty?  What's 
your  name?  Moore?  Well,  did  you  admit  this 
man?" 

"No,"  said  Bob  Moore,  "I  was  up  in  the  elevator 
taking  one  of  the  tenants  to  his  floor.  There's  only 
me  on,  late  at  night." 

But  Corson  seemed  unheeding.  Already  he  had 
turned  to  Miss  Prall. 

"Does  this  man  live  with  you?  Did  he,  I  mean. 
Where  did  he  set  out  for  when  he  left  home?  What 
time  did  he  go?" 

"Now  you  look  here !"  said  Miss  Letitia,  angrily. 
"I  can't  answer  forty-leven  questions  at  once!  Nor 
other  people  can't,  either.  You  talk  more  slowly, 
sir,  and  more  rationally." 

But  Corson  heeded  her  not  at  all.  He  turned  to 
Bates. 

"Your  uncle,  eh?    You  his  heir?" 

"Yes,  he  is!"  Miss  Prall  answered  for  him,  and 
Corson's  roving  glance  took  her  in  and  returned  to 
Bates.  "Where  were  you  when  he  was  killed?" 

"In  bed,"  replied  Richard,  shortly. 
[63] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Oh;  all  right.  Now,  I'll  take  charge  of  this 
paper,  for  there's  little  doubt  but  it's  mighty  impor 
tant.  He  folded  it  carefully  into  his  pocket-book. 
"Was  this  gentleman — er,  addicted  to  ladies'  so 
ciety?" 

"That  he  was,"  Moore  spoke  up,  involuntarily. 

"I  didn't  ask  you,"  said  Corson.  "I  asked  Mr- 
Bates." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Richard,  "he  did  like  the  society 
of  ladies, — but  most  men  do." 

"We're  not  discussing  the  matter,  Mr.  Bates," 
and  for  once  Corson  looked  steadily  at  him,  "we're 
just  looking  into  it.  And — "  he  paused,  impres 
sively,  "and  these  immediate,  right-away-quick 
questions  are  pretty  good  first  aid,  as  a  rule." 

"Go  ahead,  then,"  and  Richard  folded  his  arms, 
in  a  resigned  manner. 

Dcctcr  Pagett  motioned  the  two  ladies  to  take 
seats  on  the  red  velvet  sofa  and  seated  himself  also. 

"There's  no  doubt,"  Corson  went  on,  "that  this 
writing  is  the  true  explanation.  Dying  men  don't 
leave  anything  but  truth  as  a  last  message.  It  seems 
pretty  steep  to  believe  that  women  managed  this 
affair,  but  that's  the  very  reason  he  made  such  a 
desperate  effort  to  let  it  be  known. 

"And  he  tried  to  tell  me  who  it  was,"  broke  in 
Moore,  irrepressibly. 

"He  did?"  and  Corson's  eyes  flashed  toward  the 
speaker.  "What  did  he  say?  Did  he  mention  any 
[64] 


The  Busy  Police 


names?  How  did  you  come  to  be  listening?  Were 
you  here  when- " 

Miss  Prall  interrupted.  "If  you'd  listen  a  minute, 
and  not  talk  all  the  time,  you  might  learn  something, 
Mister  Detective!" 

"Thank  you,  ma'am.  Answer  me,  Moore.  Just 
what  did  this  man  say  after  he  was  hurt, — that  you 
heard?" 

'  "He  said  'Get — get — '  and  that  was  all,  except 
that  he  tried  hard  to  say  a  name, — or  it  seemed  like 
that, — and  he  said  something  like  something  begin 
ning  with  a  J." 

"Well,  you're  guarded  in  your  statements.  But  I 
understand.  I  suppose  he  was  struggling  for  breath, 
really " 

"He  could  just  speak  and  that's  all.  "He  kept 
saying  'J — J — '  and  then  he  gave  a  gasp  and  died.'* 

"How  do  you  know  he  died?" 

"Why,  he  sort  of  relaxed — limp  like, — and 
stopped  trying  to  speak." 

"And  he  seemed  to  be  after  some  name  beginning 
with  J, — say  James  or  John." 

"That's  the  way  it  sounded." 

"All  right.  Now,  how  long  had  you  been  absent 
from  this  place  when  you  returned  and  found  him  ?" 

"Just  long  enough  to  take  Mr  Vail  up  to  his  floor, 
— the  tenth." 

"Vail?    Who's  he?" 

"One  of  our  tenants.    He  lives  on  the  tenth  floor. 

He  came  in  and  I  took  him  up " 

[65] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"And  came  right  down  again?" 

"Yes ;  and  when  I  got  down,  I  saw  the — the  heap 
in  the  lobby." 

"You  knew  at  once  who  it  was  ?" 

"Not  who  it  was,  but  I  saw  it  was  a  man,  evidently 
knocked  down,  or  fallen  in  a  fit, — as  I  thought.  So 
I  ran  to  see,  and — I've  told  you  the  rest." 

"What  time  was  all  this?" 

"It  was  twenty  minutes  after  two." 

"When  you  found  him?" 

"When  I  found  him." 

"How  do  you  know  so  certainly?" 

"I'm — I'm  fond  of  detective  work,  and  I  thought 
there'd  be  some  in  this  matter,  and  so,  I  did  every 
thing  I  could  think  of  to  help  along." 

"Oho,  fond  of  detective  work,  are  you?  What 
have  you  done  in  that  line  ?" 

"Nothing!  I  didn't  mean  practically.  But,  well, 
theoretically.  You  see,  I've  read  a  great  many 
detective  stories " 

"Yes ;  you  were  reading  one  this  evening?  Where 
is  it  ?  Let  me  see  it." 

Slightly  embarrassed  at  Corson's  manner,  Bob  got 
the  book  and  passed  it  over. 

"  'Murder  Will  Out.'    H'm Say,  Mr.  Bates, 

do  you  know  where  your  uncle  spent  the  evening?" 

"I  do  not."  Richard  was  not  at  all  pleased  with 
Corson's  way,  and  he  had  turned  sullen. 

"No  idea?    Have  you,  Miss  Prall?" 
[66] 


The  Busy  Police 


"I've  an  idea,  but  I  suppose  you  want  only  definite 
statements.  Such  I  cannot  give." 

"Well,  well,  what  do  you  know  about  it?  Re 
member,  evasion  or  refusal  to  answer  is  by  no  means 
a  point  in  your  favor." 

"What!  Are  you  implying  there's  anything  in 
my  disfavor?  Am  I  being  questioned  as  a  possible 
suspect  ?" 

"Lord,  no,  madam !    Don't  jump  at  conclusions." 

"She  didn't!"  put. in  Eliza  Gurney.  "Seems  to 
me  you're  an  addlepated  young  fellow  for  a  detec 
tive." 

"Yes?  Does  any  one  present  know  where  Mr 
Binney — is  that  the  name? — spent  this  evening? 
Or  any  way  to  learn  of  his  whereabouts?" 

"He  went  out  about  before  I  came  on,"  volun 
teered  Moore.  "The  day  doorman  will  know,  or  the 
elevator  girl  who  brought  him  down." 

"All  right.  That's  keep.  Now,  I  want  to  get  at 
the  actual  facts  of  his  discovery  here.  It  would 
seem,  Moore,  that  you're  the  only  one  who  can  give 
any  information  in  that  respect." 

"I've  already  told  you  all  I  know." 

"And  this  Mr  Vail  you  took  upstairs, — he 
wouldn't  know  anything?" 

"I  can't  answer  for  that,  but  when  Mr  Vail  came 
in,  and  I  took  him  up  in  the  elevator,  there  wasn't 
any  sign  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney  about,  dead  or 
alive!" 

"No ;  that's  so.    Well,  then,  when  you  came  down, 
[67] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


and  found  the  wounded  man,  you  went  at  once  for 
the  doctor?" 

"Almost  at  once.  I  paused  a  moment,  because  he 
was.  trying  so  hard  to  speak,  and  I  reasoned  that  if 
he  succeeded  it  would  be  of  utmost  importance  that 
some  one  should  hear  his  words." 

"H'm — yes,  that's  so.  Well,  and  then,  he  gave 
over  trying  and  died,  you  say;  and  then?" 

"Then  I  ran  up  at  once  to  Doctor  Pagett's  apart 
ment,  it  is  only  one  flight  up,  and  he  came  down  as 
soon  as  he  could." 

"Go  on  from  there,  Doctor." 

"I  came  right  down,  as  soon  as  I  could  hurry  on 
some  clothes.  I  found  Sir  Binney  dead,  and  can 
asseverate  that  he  had  been  dead  but  a  few  mo 
ments." 

"He  was  stabbed?" 

"Yes,  and  the  weapon  used  was  removed  and  must 
have  been  taken  away  by  the  murderer,  as  it  cannot 
be  found. 

"H'm  there  are  other  explanations.  But  never 
mind  that.  The  wound  was  such  as  to  cause  almost 
instantaneous  death?" 

"Apparently  it  did  do  so.  Death  was,  of  course, 
hastened  by  the  immediate  removal  of  the  knife. 
Had  that  remained  in  the  wound,  the  victim  would 
doubtless  have  lived  long  enough  to  make  a  clear 
dying  statement." 

"What  was  the  weapon?    Can  you  divine?" 

"A  sharp  knife,  dagger,  or  some  such  implement." 
[68] 


The  Busy  Police 


"A  paper-cutter,  say?" 

"Not  likely.  Unless  it  was  an  unusually  sharp 
one.  The  cut  is  so  cleanly  made  that  it  presupposes 
a  very  sharp  blade." 

"And  your  diagnosis  of  the  killing  corresponds 
in  all  points  with  this  night  porter's  story  ?" 

"So  far  as  I  can  judge,  there  is  no  discrepancy 
in  his  narrative." 

Dr  Pagett  was  of  the  pompous  school,  and  dearly 
loved  to  be  in  an  important  role.  But  he  was  evi 
dently  a  learned  and  skilled  physician  and  his  words 
were  spoken  with  a  positive  air  that  carried  convic 
tion. 

"There  is  little  more  to  be  learned  from  viewing 
the  scene,"  the  detective  said,  at  last,  after  he  had 
put  a  few  more  direct  questions  to  Bob  Moore  and 
had  advised  some  with  his  companion  policemen. 

"Nope;  might  as  well  let  in  the  undertakers," 
agreed  Kelsey. 

"Oh,  do,"  urged  Moore.  "It's  really  imperative 
that  we  get  all  traces  of  the  tragedy  away  before 
daylight.  And  it's  almost  four  o'clock  now!" 

"Good  gracious,  so  it  is!"  exclaimed  Miss  Prall. 
"Well,  I  suppose  I  shall  be  consulted  as  to  the 
funeral,  at  least!  I  seem  to  be  of  little  importance 
here!" 

"Don't  talk  like  that,  Aunt,"  urged  Bates.  "These 
inquiries  are  necessary.  The  funeral  services  and 
all  that,  will  of  course  be  under  our  control." 

"I  should  hope  so,"  the  lady  sniffed;  "I  shall  stay 
[69] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


here  until  the  undertaker  arrives.  I  want  some  say 
in  these  matters." 

"I  think,  Letitia,"  suggested  Miss  Gurney,  "you'd 
better  go  to  your  room  and  tidy  up  a  bit.  You 
dressed  very  hastily." 

"What  matter !  Such  things  are  unimportant  in  a 
crisis  of  this  sort !  Oh,  I  can't  realize  it !  The  awful 
circumstances  almost  make  one  forget  the  sadness 
of  death!  Poor  Sir  Herbert!  He  enjoyed  life  so 
much!" 

Miss  Prall  buried  her  face  in  her  handkerchief, 
and  so  was  unable  to  see  the  quizzical  glances  given 
her  by  Detective  Corson. 


CHAPTER  V 
Who  Were  the  Women? 

THE  usual  and  necessary  routine  was  followed 
out.  The  Medical  Examiner  came  and  did 
his  part ;  the  undertakers  came  and  did  theirs ; 
and  at  last  Bob  Moore's  nervous  restlessness  was 
calmed,  somewhat,  by  a  hope  of  getting  all  signs  of 
the  tragedy  obliterated  before  the  morning's  stir  be 
gan  in  the  house. 

"I'll  wash  up  these  blood  stains,  myself,"  Moore 
volunteered, — speaking  to  Corson,  after  the  body 
had  been  taken  away  to  a  mortuary  establishment 
and  the  Prall  family  had  gone  up  to  their  rooms. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  demurred  Corson.  "It's 
evidence,  you  know " 

"For  whom  ?  Can't  you  get  all  the  deductions  you 
want,  and  let  me  clean  up?  We  can't  have  the  ten 
ants  coming  down  to  a  hall  like  this !  If  there's  any 
evidence  in  these  blood  spots,  make  a  note  of  it. 
You  know  yourself  they  can't  be  left  here  all  day !" 

This   was   reasonable  talk,   and   Corson  agreed. 

"All  right,"  he  said.    "I'll  make  pencil  marks  around 

where  the  spots  are, — pencil  won't  wash  off,  you 

know, — and  as  I  can't  see  any  trace  of  footprints, 

[71] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


I  suppose  there  isn't  anything  further  to  be  learned 
from  the  condition  of  the  floor." 

"Thought  you  Tecs  got  a  lot  from  looking  at  the 
scene  of  the  crime,"  Moore  jeered.  "You  haven't 
deduced  a  thing  but  that  the  man  was  stabbed, — and 
Dr  Pagett  told  you  that." 

Corson  took  the  taunt  seriously. 

"That  finding  of  tiny  clues,  such  as  shreds  of 
clothing,  part  of  a  broken  cuff-link,  a  dropped  hand 
kerchief,  all  those  things,  are  just  story-book  stuff, 
— -they_cut  no  ice  in  real  cases." 

f'i'll  bet  Sherlock  Holmes  could  find  a  lot  of  data 
just  by  going  over  the  floor  with  a  lens." 

"He  could  in  a  story  book, — and  do  you  know 
why  ?  Because  the  clews  and  things,  in  a  story,  are 
all  put  there  for  him  by  the  property  man.  Like  a 
salted  mine.  But  in  real  life,  there's  nothing  doing 
of  that  sort.N  Take  a  good  squint  at  the  floor, 
though,  before  you  remove  those  stains.  You  don't 
see  anything,  do  you?" 

Elated  at  being  thus  appealed  to  by  a  real,  live 
detective,  Moore  got  down  on  hands  and  knees  and 
scrutinized  the  floor  all  about  where  the  body  of  Sir 
Herbert  had  lain. 

There  was  nothing  indicative  to  be  seen.  The 
floor  of  the  lobby  was  always  kept  in  proper  condi 
tion  and  beyond  the  slight  trace  of  dust  that 
naturally  accumulated  between  the  diurnal  washings, 
the  floor  gave  up  no  information. 

So  the  gruesome  red  stains  were  washed  away, 
[72] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


and  once  again  the  onyx  lobby  took  on  its  normal 
atmosphere. 

"How  you  going  to  work  on  the  case?"  asked 
Moore,  eagerly  interested. 

"I'm  going  to  get  the  truth  out  of  you !"  declared 
Corson,  so  suddenly  and  brusquely  that  Moore 
turned  white. 

"What!"  he  cried. 

"Yes,  just  that.  You  know  a  lot  about  the  matter 
that  you  haven't  told, — so  you  can  just  out  with 
it!" 

"Me?    I  don't  know  anything." 

"Now,  now,  the  thing  is  too  thin.  How  could 
Binney  get  in  here,  and  then  his  murderer  come  in 
and  have  the  whole  shooting-match  pulled  off  in  the 
short  time  it  would  take  you  to  run  Vail  up  to  the 
tenth  floor  and  drop  your  car  down  again?" 

"But — but,  you  see,  I — I  stood  quite  a  while  talk 
ing  to  Mr  Vail  after  we  stopped  at  his  floor." 

"What'd  you  do  that  for?" 

"Why,  we  were  talking  about  the  book  I  was 
reading " 

"You  were  both  talking — or  you  were  talking  to 
him?" 

"I  guess  that's  it.  I  was  so  crazy  about  the  book 
I'd  talk  to  anybody  who'd  listen,  and  Mr  Vail  was 
real  good-natured,  and  I  guess  I  let  myself  go " 

"And  babbled  on,  till  he  was  bored  to  death  and 
sent  you  away." 

[73] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Just  about  that,"  and  Moore  grinned,  sheepishly. 
"I'm  terribly  fond  of  detective  stories." 

"Yes,  so  you've  said.  Well,  your  book  is  called, 
I  believe,  'Murder  Will  Out,'  so,  as  that's  pretty  true, 
you  might  as  well  own  up  first  as  last." 

"Own  up  to  what?" 

"That  you  killed  Sir  Binney!  Where's  the  knife? 
What  did  you  do  it  for?  Don't  you  know  you'll  be 
arrested,  tried,  convicted  and  sentenced?  Yes — 
sentenced !" 

Corson's  habit  of  flinging  out  rapid-fire  questions 
took  on  new  terror  from  the  fierce  frown  with  which 
he  accompanied  his  speech,  and  Bob  Moore's  knees 
trembled  beneath  him. 

"W — what  are  you  talking  about?  I — I  didn't 
k— kill  him!" 

"Yes,  you  did!  You  got  all  wrought  up  over 
those  fool  story  books  of  yours  and  you  went  bug, 
and  killed  him  in  a  frenzy  of  imagination !" 

"Oh,  oh!    I  didn't— I, " 

"Then  explain  your  movements !  You  came  down 
from  your  talk  with  Vail,  full  of  murder  thoughts. 
You  saw  Binney  come  in,  and,  moved  by  the  oppor 
tunity  and  obsessed  with  the  murder  game,  you  let 
drive  and  killed  him,  in  a  sort  of  mania!" 

"Oh,  no!  no!"  and  Moore  fell  limply  into  a  seat 
and  began  to  sob  wildly. 

"Stop  that!"  Corson  ordered.  "I've  got  to  find 
out  about  this.  I  believe  you  did  it, — I  believe  I've 
struck  the  truth,  for  the  simple  reason  that  there's 
[74] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


no  other  suspect.  This  man  Binney  had  no  enemies. 
Why,  he's  a  peaceable  Englishman,  in  trade, — and  a 
big  trade.  I  know  all  about  him.  He  wanted  to 
place  his  Bun  business  over  here.  He'd  confabbed 
with  several  Bakery  men  in  this  city,  and  was  about 
to  make  a  deal.  He  was  on  good  terms  with  his 
people  here, — sort  of  relatives,  they  are, — and  he 
was  a  gay  old  boy  in  his  social  tastes.  Now,  who's 
going  to  stick  up  a  man  like  that?  There  was  no 
robbery, — his  watch  and  kale  were  all  right  there. 
So  there's  no  way  to  look,  but  toward  you!  You!" 
A  pointed  forefinger  emphasized  Corson's  words  and 
Moore  broke  into  fresh  sobs. 

"I  tell  you  I  didn't!  Why,  it's  too  absurd — 
too " 

"Not  absurd  at  all.  I  know  something  of  psy 
chology,  and  I  know  how  those  murder  yarns,  read 
late  at  nights, — when  you're  here  alone,  get  into 
your  blood,  and — well,  it's  a  wonder  you  didn't  stick 
Vail !  But  I  suppose  his  indulgent  listening  to  your 
ravings  helped  along  your  murder  instinct,  and 
you " 

"Oh,  hush!  If  you  keep  on  you'll  make  me  think 
I  did  do  it!" 

"Of  course, — you  can't  think  anything  else.  Now, 
here's  another  thing.  You  say  you  went  up  for  Dr 
Pagett  at  twenty  past  two." 

"Or  a  few  minutes  later." 

"Well,  Pagett  said, — I  asked  him  privately, — that 
[751 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


it  was  at  least  quarter  to  three !  What  were  you  do 
ing  all  that  time?" 

"It  wasn't — I  didn't — oh,  Mr  Corson,  I  told  you 
the  truth.  I  waited  to  catch  the  last  words  of " 

"Yes,  of  your  own  victim !  And  then,  frightened, 
you  hung  around  twenty  minutes  or  so  before  calling 
the  doctor." 

"I  did  not!  But,"  and  Moore  pulled  himself  to 
gether,  "I'm  not  going  to  say  another  word!  You've 
doped  out  this  cock-and-bull  story  because  you  don't 
know  which  way  to  look  for  the  real  murderer.  And 
you  think  you  can  work  a  third  degree  on  me — and 
railroad  me  to  the  chair,  do  you?  Well,  you  can't 
doit!" 

Moore's  eyes  were  glittering,  his  cheeks  were 
flushed  and  his  voice  rose  to  a  shrill  shriek  as  he 
glared  wildly  at  his  tormentor. 

"Shut  up  on  that !"  Corson  flung  at  him.  "Calm 
yourself  down,  now.  If  you're  innocent,  it's  all 
right.  But  I'll  keep  my  eye  on  you,  my  boy.  Now, 
tell  me  any  theory  you  have  or  can  invent  that  will 
fit  the  facts  of  the  case." 

Corson  asked  this  in  the  honest  hope  that  Moore 
could  give  him  a  hint.  The  detective  was  a  good 
plodding  sleuth  when  it  came  to  tracking  down  a 
clew,  but  he  was  not  fertile  of  imagination  and  had 
little  or  no  initiative.  He  really  believed  it  might 
have  been  Moore's  work,  but  he  thought  so,  prin 
cipally,  because  he  could  think  of  no  other  way  to 
look. 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


"The  facts  are  not  so  very  strange,"  began  Moore, 
looking  at  the  detective  uncertainly.  He  didn't 
want  to  give  any  unnecessary  help,  for  he  had  a 
half-formed  theory  that  he  wanted  to  think  out  for 
himself,  and  he  had  no  intention  of  sharing  it  with 
an  avowed  enemy.  But  he  saw,  too,  that  a  few 
words  of  suggestion  of  any  sort  might  lead  Corson's 
suspicions  away  from  himself  and  might 'make  for 
leniency. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  he  said,  on  a  sudden  thought. 
"The  writing  the  dying  man  managed  to  scribble 
said  that  women  did  the  murder." 

"That's  my  best  bet!"  cried  Corson;  "I've  been 
waiting  for  you  to  mention  that !  You  wrote  that 
paper!  That's  what  occupied  you  all  that  time.  Of 
course  women  didn't  do  a  deed  like  that.  You  con 
ceived  the  fiendishly  clever  idea  of  writing  such  a 
message  to  mislead  the  police !" 

"You — you "  but  words  failed  Bob  Moore. 

He  reverted  to  his  plan  of  silence  and  sat,  moodily 
staring  in  front  of  him,  as  the  dawn  broke  and  the 
time  drew  near  for  the  day  shift  of  workers  to  come 
on. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  and  Corson  now  spoke 
almost  ingratiatingly.  "I  mean  don't  you  think  it 
pretty  impossible  for  women  to  put  over  such  a 
crime  ?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  Bob  blurted  out.  "Nor  you 
wouldn't  either,  if  you  knew  Binney!  Why,  his  life 
[77] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


was  just  one — h'm — one  woman  after  another! 
And  they  were  all  after  him !" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Why  he  was  a  regular  feller,  you  know.  He 
took  the  chorus  girls, — or  some  of  their  sort, — out 
to  dinners  and  all  that,  and,  here  in  the  house,  he 
jollied  the  elevator  girls  and  the  telephone  and  news 
stand  Janes, — and  yet  he  detested  girls'  service. 
Many  a  time  he'd  blow  out  to  the  manager  about 
how  he'd  ought  to  fire  all  the  girls  and  put  back 
men  or  boys, — like  we  had  before  the  war." 

"Your  story  doesn't  hang  together.  Binney 
seemed  to  adore  and  hate  the  girls,  both." 

"That's  just  it,  he  did.  He'd  storm  and  rail  at 
Daisy, — she's  on  his  elevator,  and  then  he'd  turn 
around  and  chuck  her  under  the  chin,  and  like  as 
not  bring  her  home  a  big  box  of  chocolates." 

"Oh,  well,  I've  heard  of  men  like  that  before." 

"But  not  so  much  so.  I  don't  believe  anybody 
ever  went  for  the  girls  rough-shod  as  bad  as  he  did. 
He  called  them  down  for  the  least  thing, — and  then, 
sometimes  he'd  make  it  up  to  them  and  sometimes  he 
wouldn't." 

"And  the  chorus  ladies  ?  But  I  suppose  you  don't 
know  much  about  them." 

"Don't  I  ?  Well,  I  guess  I  do !  Why,  Mr  Binney 
— Sir  Binney,  I  mean, — he  used  to  tell  me  the  tallest 
yarns  I  ever  heard,  about  his  little  suppers, — as  he 
called  'em.  He'd  come  'long  about  two  G.  M.  pretty 
mellow,  and  in  an  expansive  mood,  and  he'd  pour 
[78] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


out  his  heart  to  old  Bob, — meaning  me.  Yes,  sir, 
I  know  a  thing  or  two  about  Binney's  lady  friends, 
and  there's  a  few  of  them  that  wouldn't  mind  knifing 
him  a  bit, — if  they  were  sure  they  wouldn't  be  found 
out.  And, — if  you  ask  me,  that's  just  what  hap 
pened." 

"H'm;  you  mean  they  followed  him  home,  and 
slipped  in  after  him " 

"Yep." 

"But  how  did  they  know  they'd  find  the  coast 
clear, — that  you'd  so  very  conveniently  be  up  in  the 
elevator,  and  would  stay  up  there  such  an  unusually 
long  time?  You'd  better  shut  up,  Moore.  Every 
thing  you  say  gets  you  deeper  in  the  net.  If  your 
chorus  girl  theory  is  the  right  dope,  you  were  in  on 
it,  too.  Otherwise  it  couldn't  have  been  worked !" 

"All  right,  Mr  Corson,  I'll  shut  up.  You'll  see 
the  time  when  you'll  be  mighty  glad  to  turn  to  me  for 
help.  Till  then,  work  on  your  own ;  but  you  needn't 
aim  this  way,  it  won't  get  you  anywhere." 

Meantime  there  was  consternation  among  the 
nearest  of  kin  to  the  dead  man. 

In  the  Prall  apartment,  Miss  Letitia  was  conduct 
ing  conversation  ably  aided  and  abetted  by  Eliza 
Gurney,  while  young  Bates  sat  listening  and  joining 
in  when  there  was  opportunity. 

"Worst  of  all  is  the  disgrace,"  Miss  Prall  was 
saying.  "There's  no  use  my  pretending  I'm  over 
come  with  grief, — personal  grief,  I  mean,  for  I 
never  cared  two  straws  for  the  man,  and  I'm  not 
[79] 


going  to  make  believe  I  did.  But  the  publicity  and 
newspaper  talk  is  terrible.  Once  it  blows  over  and 
is  forgotten  we'll  be  able  to  hold  up  our  heads  again, 
but  just  now,  we're  in  the  public  eye, — and  it's  an 
awful  place  to  be!" 

"But  who  did  it,  Aunt  Letitia,"  said  Bates. 
"We've  got  to  get  the  murderer " 

"I  don't  mind  so  much  about  that,"  his  aunt  re 
turned,  with  a  sharp  sniff.  "All  I  want  is  to  get  the 
thing  hushed  up.  Of  course,  you're  the  heir  now, 
Ricky,  so  you  must  put  on  suitable  mourning  and 
all  that,  but  those  things  can  be  attended  to  in  due 
course." 

"Where  you  going  to  have  the  funeral  and 
when?"  asked  Eliza.  "I  don't  think  I'll  go." 

"You  needn't,  if  you  don't  want  to,"  Miss  Prall 
agreed.  "I  don't  blame  you, — I  don't  want  to  attend 
it  myself,  but  I  suppose  I  ought  to.  It  will  be  in 
the  undertaker's  chapel,  and  it  will  soon  be  over. 
Let's  have  it  just  as  quickly  as  possible,  Rick.  To 
morrow,  say." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Letitia!  Do  observe  the  rules  of 
common  decency !  We  can't  hurry  the  poor  man  into 
his  grave  like  that.  And  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
there'll  be  a  lot  of  red  tape  and  inquiry  before  we 
can  bury  him  at  all." 

"Maybe  the  body'll  have  to  be  sent  back  to  Eng 
land,"  suggested  Eliza,  and  Richard  was  just  about 
to  say  he  supposed  it  would,  when  the  doorbell  of 
the  apartment  rang. 

[80] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


As  Miss  Frail's  maids  did  not  sleep  in  the  house, 
Bates  opened  the  door  and  found  Corson  there,  with 
a  bland  but  determined  look  on  his  face. 

"Sorry  to  trouble  you  people,"  he  said,  stepping 
inside  without  being  asked,  "but  I've  some  talking 
to  do,  and  the  sooner  the  quicker." 

He  smiled,  importantly,  and,  selecting  a  comfort 
able  chair,  seated  himself  deliberately  and  looked  in 
silence  from  one  to  another. 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Prall,  stiffly,  "what  do  you 
want  to  know  ?" 

The  angular,  spare  figure  of  the  spinster,  upright 
in  a  straight-backed  chair,  was  not  of  a  demeanor 
to  put  a  man  at  ease,  but  Corson  showed  no  uneasi 
ness,  and  almost  lolled  in  his  seat  as  he  cast  a  slow 
glance  at  her. 

"Naturally,"  he  began,  "what  I  want  to  know  is, 
and  what  I  propose  to  find  out  is,  who  killed  Sir 
Herbert  Binney.  And  what  I  want  to  know  here 
is,  anything  any  of  you  can  tell  me  that  will  throw 
any  light,  side  light,  or  full  glare,  on  the  question." 

"We  don't  know  anything  that  is  illuminating  in 
any  way,"  Miss  Prall  informed  him. 

"I  will  be  the  judge  of  the  powers  of  illumination 
if  you  will  tell  me  what  you  know,"  was  the  suave 
retort.  "Will  you  make  a  statement  or  shall  I  ask 
questions  ?" 

"Neither,"  and  Letitia  Prall  rose.  "You  may  bid 
us  good-night,  sir.  This  is  no  time  to  intrude  upon 
[Si] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


the  ladies  of  a  family, — especially  a  family  in  deep 
and  sudden  mourning." 

"You  weren't  mourning  very  deeply  as  I  entered." 
Corson  made  no  move  to  get  up,  although  Bates  rose 
as  his  aunt  did.  "I  think,  Miss  Prall,  you'd  better 
sit  down  again,  and  you,  too,  Mr  Bates.  This  may 
be  a  lengthy  confab." 

"I  think  you'd  better  listen  to  this  man,  Letitia," 
advised  Eliza.  "He's  got  a  right  to  be  heard,  and  I, 
for  one,  want  to  know  how  matters  stand." 

Whereupon  Letitia  sat  down  and  Bates  came  and 
stood  behind  her  chair. 

"First,  Mr.  Corson,"  Richard  said,  "let  me  under 
stand  just  how  far  your  authority  goes " 

"All  the  way,"  returned  Corson,  promptly.  "I'm 
the  police  detective  on  this  case.  I  shall  have  a 
helper, — a  colleague,  undoubtedly,  but  for  the  mo 
ment  I'm  working  alone.  However,  I've  all  the 
authority  in  the  world.  I  represent  law  and  justice, 
I  represent  the  government,  I  represent  the  United 
States!" 

"The  United  States  is  honored,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Miss  Prall  with  unconcealed  sarcasm. 

Such  things  never  ruffled  Corson,  and  he  went 
calmly  on. 

"This  man's  relation  to  you?"  he  said,  interroga 
tively,  looking  at  Letitia. 

"He  was  no  kin  of  mine,"  she  snapped;  "he  was 
the  uncle  of  my  nephew,  Mr  Bates,  and  Mr  Bates  is 
the  sole  heir." 

[82] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


"Indeed;  he  is  to  be  congratulated.  Now,  this 
man, — Sir  Binney " 

"Don't  call  him  that!"  put  in  Eliza.  "It  does 
annoy  me  so!  Say  Sir  Herbert  Binney  or  Sir 
Herbert.  Have  you  never  known  a  knight?" 

"No,  ma'am,  I  never  have.  Well,  Sir  Herbert, 
then, — did  he  live  here?" 

"In  this  building, — not  in  this  apartment,"  Rich 
ard  answered,  as  the  two  haughty  ladies  seemed  dis 
inclined  to  accommodate  their  inquisitor. 

And  then,  by  dint  of  slow  and  persistent  question 
ing,  Detective  Corson  drew  out  the  vital  statistics  of 
the  deceased  gentleman  and  of  the  members  of  the 
Prall  household. 

"Now  as  to  the  'women,'  "  Corson  went  on.  "You 
know  Sir  Herbert  left  a  paper  stating  that  women 
killed  him.  This  is  a  most  peculiar  message  for  a 
dying  man  to  leave." 

"Why  so,  if  it  is  true?"  and  Letitia  Frail's  eyes 
gave  him  a  curious  look. 

"Yes, — that's  just  it, — if  it  is  true." 

"It's  got  to  be  true,"  burst  out  Bates,  impulsively. 
"No  man  is  going  to  write  a  thing  like  that  with  his 
last  ounce  of  dying  strength  unless  it's  true!" 

"I  agree  to  that,"  and  Corson  nodded,  "if  he  did 
write  it." 

"What?"  Miss  Prall  started  up  in  amazement. 
"Who  says  he  didn't  write  it  ?" 

"Nobody  says  so,  I  only  say  it  might  be  so.  Sup- 
[83] 


pose  the  murderer  himself  wrote  it  to  turn  suspicion 
toward  some  one  else, — some  woman." 

"I  never  thought  of  that!"  and  Miss  Prall  fell 
into  a  brown  study,  as  if  the  new  thought  moved  her 
profoundly. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Bates,  looking  intently  at  the  detec 
tive.  "But,  I  say,  that  writing  looked  to  me  amaz 
ingly  like  my  uncle's." 

"And  the  porter, — Bob  Moore,  you  know,"  broke 
in  Eliza, — "he  said,  the  pencil  dropped  from  Sir 
Herbert's  fingers  just  as  he  fell  back  dead " 

"Oh,  no,  he  didn't  say  that!  That's  the  way 
stories  get  repeated.  There's  no  such  thing  as 
direct,  undistorted  evidence!  Moore  didn't  see  the 
pencil  in  Sir  Herbert's  fingers  at  all.  He  saw  it  lying 
on  the  floor  beside  the  dead  man's  hand, — or,  he 
says  he  did." 

"Good  Heavens!  You  don't  suspect  Moore!" 
cried  Richard.  "Why,  he's  the  best  chap  going!" 

"I  don't  say  he  isn't,  and  I  don't  say  I  suspect 
him,  but  I  want  you  people  to  understand  that  he 
might  have  done  it  all, — might  have  committed  the 
murder  and  might  have  written  the  scribbled  paper 
to  turn  suspicion  away  from  himself.  As  for  the 
handwriting,  that  trembling,  shaky  scrawl  can't  be 
identified  with  anybody's  ordinary  writing." 

"Oh,  I  can't  think  it,"  Richard  objected.     "Why, 
Bojb  Moore  couldn't  do  such  a  thing,  and,  besides, 
what  would  be  his  motive?" 
[84] 


Who  Were  the  Women? 


*'We  haven't  come  to  motive  yet.  We're  finding 
out  who  had  opportunity." 

"Any  passer-by  had  that,"  Miss  Prall  said,  posi 
tively;  "while  Moore  was  up  in  the  elevator,  what 
was  to  prevent  any  pedestrian  going  by  from  step 
ping  in  and  killing  Sir  Herbert  ?" 

"Nothing;  but  there  are  few  pedestrians  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  fewer  still  who  have 
a  reason  for  a  murder." 

"Oh,  it  must  have  been  prearranged,"  said  Bates, 
thoughtfully.  "There's  not  the  slightest  doubt,"  he 
went  on  hurriedly,  "that  whoever  killed  him, — man, 
woman  or  child ! — came  in  from  the  street  to  do  the 
deed." 

"Why,  of  course,"  agreed  Miss  Prall;  "where  else 
could  they  have  come  from?  Nobody  in  the  house 
would  do  it !" 

"No;  I  suppose  not,"  admitted  Corson.  "Well, 
then,  ma'am,  we  have  the  assassin  coming  in  from 
the  street,  while  Moore  is  upstairs.  And,  according 
to  the  victim's  own  statement,  the  assassin  was 
feminine  and  there  were  two,  at  least,  of  them.  For 
I've  studied  that  paper,  and  it  says,  clearly,  'women 
did  this.'  Want  to  see  it?"  his  hand  went  toward 
his  breast  pocket. 

"No, — oh,  no,"  and  Miss  Prall  shuddered. 

"Well,  supposing  a  couple  of  women  came  in, 

having,  we'll  say,  watched  their  chance,  what  more 

likely  than  that  it  was  two  chickens, — beg  pardon, 

ma'am,  that  means  gay  young  ladies, — with  whom 

[85] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Sir  Herbert  had  been  dining?  Why,  like  as  not 
they  came  in  with  him.  They  didn't  hang  round 
outside  waiting  for  him.  You  see,  they'd  been  with 
him,  and  he  had  in  some  way  offended  them,  let  us 
say,  and  they  wanted  to  kill  him " 

"Seems  to  me  you're  drawing  a  long  bow,"  and 
Bates  almost  smiled  at  the  mental  picture  of  two  gay 
chorus  girls  committing  the  gruesome  deed. 

Corson  spoke  seriously.  "No,  Mr  Bates,  I'm  not. 
If  we  take  this  written  paper  at  its  face  value,  and  I 
don't  know  why  we  shouldn't,  it  means  that  women 
killed  that  man.  And  if  women,  who  more  likely 
than  the  chorus  girls?  Unless  you  people  up  here 
can  suggest  some  other  women, — some,  any  women 
in  the  man's  private  life  who  wished  to  do  him  harm 
or  who  wished  him  out  of  the  way.  That's  why 
I'm  here,  to  learn  anything  and  all  things  you  may 
know  that  might  aid  me  in  a  search  for  the  right 
women — the  women  who  really  killed  him.  Chorus 
girls  are  wholly  supposititious.  But  the  real  women, 
the  women  who  are  the  criminals,  must  and  shall  be 
found!" 


[86] 


CHAPTER  VI 
The  Little  Dinner 

THE  next  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  Morton, 
the  day  doorman,  came  on  duty. 
Corson  eagerly  began  at  once  to  question 
him,  and  he  told  the  story  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney's 
departure  from  the  house,  but  there  his  information 
ended. 

"All  I  know  is,  Mr  Binney  went  away  from  here 
in  a  taxicab,  'long  about  half -past  six,  I  think  it  was. 
And  he  went  to  the  Hotel  Magnifique, — at  least, 
that's  what  he  told  the  driver.  And  that's  the  last  I 
saw  of  him.  But  his  man,  Peters,  is  due  any  minute, 
— maybe  he'll  know  more." 

"Peters?    A  valet?" 

"Yes,  and  general  factotum.  He  comes  every 
morning  at  eight,  and  takes  care  of  his  boss.'* 

And  in  a  few  moments  Peters  arrived.  His 
shocked  astonishment  at  the  news  was  too  patently 
real  to  give  the  slightest  grounds  of  suspicion  that 
he  had  any  knowledge  of  it  before  his  arrival. 

"Poor  old  duffer!"  he  said,  earnestly,  "he  was 
awful  fond  of  life.  Now,  who  would  kill  him,  I'd 
like  to  know!" 

[87] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"That's  what  we  all  want  to  know,  Peters,"  said 
Corson.  "Come,  I'll  go  up  to  his  rooms  with  you, 
and  we  can  look  things  over." 

Up  they  went,  and  the  detective  looked  about  the 
apartment  of  the  dead  man  with  interest.  There 
were  but  two  rooms,  a  bedroom  and  bath  and  a 
good-sized  sitting-room.  The  furniture  was  the 
usual  type  of  hotel  appointments  and  there  were  so 
few  individual  belongings  that  the  place  gave  small 
indication  of  the  habits  or  tastes  of  its  late  occu 
pant. 

"Nothing  of  a  sybarite,"  commented  Corson, 
glancing  at  the  few  and  simple  toilet  appurtenances. 

"No,"  returned  Peters,  "but  he  was  accustomed 
to  finer  living  in  his  English  home.  He's  no  brag, 
but  I  gathered  that  from  things  he  let  drop  now 
and  then.  But  when  he  was  on  a  business  trip,  he 
didn't  seem  to  care  how  things  were.  He  was  a  good 
dresser,  but  not  much  for  little  comforts  or  luxu 
ries." 

"What  about  his  friendships  with  ladies?" 

"Aha,  that  was  his  strong  point!  As  a  ladies' 
man  he  was  there  with  the  goods !  He  liked  'em  all, 
— from  chorus  girls  to  duchesses, — and  he  knew 
English  ladies  of  high  life,  I  can  tell  you." 

"But  over  here  he  preferred  the  chorus  girls?" 

"I  don't  say  he  preferred  them.  He  went  out  a 
lot  to  fine  homes  and  hobnobbed  with  some  big 
people.  But  he  was  in  his  gayest  mood  when  he  was 
getting  off  for  a  frolic  with  the  girls." 

[88] 


The  Little  Dinner 


"As  he  was  last  night  ?" 

"Yes ;  he  didn't  say  much  about  it,  but  he  did  tell 
me  that  he  was  to  take  a  couple  of  peaches  to  din 
ner,  and  afterwards  see  them  in  a  Review  or  some 
thing  they  dance  in." 

"Can't  you  be  more  definite?  Don't  you  know 
what  revue?  Or  the  girls'  names?" 

"No;  I've  no  idea.  Sir  Herbert  didn't  mention 
any  names,  and  of  course  I  didn't  ask  him  any 
thing." 

"Then,  I'll  have  to  go  to  the  Magnifique  to  get  on 
with  this.  First,  I'll  take  a  look  around  here." 

But  a  careful  investigation  of  the  late  Sir 
Herbert's  papers  and  personal  effects  cast  no  light 
on  the  mystery  of  his  death.  There  were  several 
photographs  of  young  women,  quite  likely  theatrical 
people,  but  none  had  a  signature.  However,  Corson 
took  these  in  charge  as  well  as  some  few  notes  and 
letters  that  seemed  significant  of  friendships  with 
women. 

"As  young  Bates  is,  I  believe,  the  heir  to  Sir 
Herbert's  estate,  I  suppose  he'll  take  charge  of 
these  rooms,  but,  meanwhile,  I'll  lock  up  as  I  want  to 
go  downstairs  again  now.  You're  out  of  a  job, 
my  man !" 

"Yes, — why,  so  I  am !  It's  the  first  I've  realized 
that!" 

"Maybe  Mr  Bates  will  keep  you  on." 

"Not  he !  Those  young  chaps  don't  want  valets. 
He  doesn't,  anyhow.  No,  I'll  be  looking  for  a  new 
[89] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


berth.  Oh,  it'll  be  easy  enough  found,  but  I  liked 
Sir  Herbert  mighty  well.  He  was  a  queer  dick,  but 
a  kind  and  easy-going  man  to  live  with." 

"And  he  never  chatted  with  you  about  his  young 
lady  friends?" 

"Never.  He  was  a  reserved  sort,  as  far  as  his 
own  affairs  were  concerned.  You  could  go  just  so 
far  and  no  farther  with  Sir  Herbert  Binney." 

"Well,  he  left  a  paper  stating  that  his  death  was 
brought  about  by  women." 

"He  did?    Why,  how  could  that  be?" 

"That's  what  I've  got  to  find  out.  He  tried  to 
write  a  message,  and  died  in  the  very  act.  But  he 
wrote  clearly  and  distinctly  the  words,  'Women  did 
this/  and  we've  got  to  believe  it." 

"Oh,  yes ;  if  it  was  the  other  way,  now,  if  women 
did  it,  he  might  try  to  put  it  up  to  a  man,  to  shield 
the  girls.  But  if  he  wrote  that,  it's  so,  of  course. 
Must  have  been  some  of  those  skylarking  kids,  and 
yet,  it  ain't  likely,  is  it  now  ?  Some  vamp,  I  should 
say." 

"That's  it !  Not  a  young  chorus  chicken,  but  an 
older  woman,  or  women.  Adventuresses,  you 
know." 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  mean.  I  suppose  your  first 
move  is  to  trail  his  steps  of  last  evening." 

"Yes,  and  I  must  get  about  it  before  the  trail  gets 
cold.  I've  so  many  ways  to  look.  You  know,  Peters, 
he  wasn't  liked  by  the  girls  of  this  house." 

"Well  do  I  know  that, — and  small  wonder.  The 
[90] 


The  Little  Dinner 


girls  in  this  house  are  as  nice  a  bunch  of  young 
ladies  as  ever  lived.  And  the  tenants  are  decent  men, 
— they  don't  chuck  an  elevator  girl  under  the  chin 
or  try  to  kiss  her  every  time  they  ride  up  or  down 
in  her  car  alone  with  her !" 

"And  Sir  Herbert  did?" 

"That  he  did !  I  heard  it  time  and  again.  All  the 
girls  were  right  down  mad  about  it.  They're  not 
that  sort  of  girls." 

"But  I  suppose  they're  not  the  sort  of  girls  to  stab 
him  in  their  righteous  wrath?" 

"Oh,  good  Lord,  no !  Though  there's  one  of  'em, 
now, " 

"Which  one?" 

"No,  I'll  mention  no  names.  Why,  I've  no  right 
to  hint  at  such  a  thing." 

"But  if  you  know  anything " 

"I  don't.  Go  ahead  with  your  investigations.  If 
there's  anything  to  start  your  suspicions,  let  me 
know  which  way  you're  looking." 

Corson  went  downstairs  again,  and  rounded  up 
all  the  girls  employed  in  the  house  who  might  be 
apt  to  come  in  contact  with  the  tenants. 

Daisy  Lee,  an  elevator  girl,  and  Julie  Baxter,  a 
telephone  girl,  were  the  only  ones  who  seemed  to 
have  rancorous  or  vindictive  feelings  toward  the 
dead  man. 

Daisy,  a  frail,  pale  girl  with  a  soft  pretty  face 
and  lovely  eyes,  said  frankly  she  was  glad  he  was 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


dead,  for  he  bothered  the  life  out  of  her  with  his 
attentions. 

"He'd  wait  till  I  took  other  people  up  or  down," 
she  said,  angrily,  "so's  he  could  ride  with  me  alone, 
and  then  he'd  kiss  me." 

"Why  didn't  you  report  his  actions  to  the  manage 
ment  ?"  Corson  said,  sharply. 

"Well,"  Daisy  blushed  and  hesitated. 

"Speak  up,  Day !"  said  Julie.  "I'll  tell  you,  sir. 
She  didn't  tell  'cause  he  brought  her  candy  and 
flowers  if  she  wouldn't." 

"That's  so,"  Daisy  admitted,  pouting.  "I  like 
flowers  and  candies  as  well  as  anybody,  and  they're 
scarce  nowadays." 

"Where  were  you  last  night?"  Corson  inquired, 
suddenly. 

"Home  and  in  bed,"  declared  Daisy,  and  when 
Julie  gave  her  a  quick,  surprised  look  she  said,  de 
fiantly,  "Well,  I  was!" 

"And  where  were  you?"  The  detective  turned  to 
Julie. 

"Home  and  in  bed,"  she  said  also,  but  her  tone 
was  not  convincing. 

Corson  was  about  to  ask  further  questions  of 
them,  but  just  then  Mr  Vail  came  down  in  the  eleva 
tor,  and  the  detective  turned  to  him. 

"What!"  Vail  exclaimed,  as  the  news  was  told 
him.  "Binney !  Why,  who  did  it  ?" 

"Women,"  said  Corson,  succinctly,  and  Vail 
looked  mystified. 

[92] 


The  Little  Dinner 


"Women!  What  women?  And  how  do  you 
know?" 

He  was  enlightened  as  to  the  written  message,  and 
he  looked  utterly  amazed. 

"I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing!  How  could  he 
write  all  that  after  he  was  stabbed  with  a  stroke  that 
killed  him?" 

"Well,  he  did!  He  was  just  dying  when  Bob 
Moore  came  down  from  taking  you  up." 

"Oh,  then?  Yes,  Moore  and  I  chatted  a  few 
moments  about  detective  stories,  and  do  you  mean  to 
say  that  at  that  very  moment  poor  old  Binney  was 
being  murdered  a  few  floors  beneath  us?" 

"Just  that,  sir." 

"What  an  awful  thing!  Have  you  any  idea  of 
the  identity  of  the  women?  How  could  women  do 
it?" 

"That's  what  everybody  says!  To  me  it's  just 
as  easy  to  think  women  did  it  as  men, — and  a  heap 
more  logical!  Why,  a  man  wouldn't  have  dared  to 
come  into  a  brightly  lighted  place  like  this  and  stab 
somebody  and  get  away  again!  But  an  angry 
woman — that's  just  what  she  would  do !" 

"That's  true :  I  mean  it's  true  no  man  would  take 
a  chance  like  that, — no  sane  man.  But  a  woman,  in 
a  towering  rage  or  insanely  jealous  or  something — 
well,  anyway,  it's  the  most  astonishing  case  I  ever 
heard  of !" 

"It's  all  of  that!  You  knew  Sir  Herbert  Binney 
pretty  well,  didn't  you,  Mr  Vail?" 

[93] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"In  a  business  way ;  not  socially.  We  had  several 
conferences  as  to  his  Bun  bakery.  I've  a  Bread 
business  of  my  own,  and  we  talked  about  a  combine, 
but  we  finally  gave  up  the  plan  and  Sir  Herbert 
took  his  offers  to  the  Crippen  concern, — or,  said  he 
was  going  to  do  so." 

"You  and  he  friendly?" 

"Oh,  yes;  the  affair  was  entirely  amicable.  The 
whole  thing  resolved  itself  into  the  fact  that  his 
Buns  were  really  more  cake  than  bread, — at  least, 
from  the  American  point  of  view, — and  so  better 
adapted  to  Crippen's  use  than  to  ours." 

"And  you  came  in  last  night  just  before  Sir 
Herbert  came?" 

"So  you  tell  me  now.  Naturally,  I  didn't  know 
he  followed  me  in." 

"Where'd  you  spend  the  evening?" 

"With  a  friend,  Dr  Weldon,  in  Fifty-first 
Street." 

"Mind  if  I  call  him  up  and  ask  him?" 

Vail  stared  at  the  detective. 

"Meaning  you're  questioning  my  veracity,  or  con 
necting  me  with  the  crime?" 

Corson  reddened,  but  stuck  to  his  suggestion. 

"No,  sir,  but, — well,  you're  the  nearest  I've  found 
to  a  material  witness,  and " 

"Well,  do  you  know,  it  strikes  me  you  don't  know 
what  a  material  witness  is !  However,  I've  not  the 
least  objection  to  your  calling  up  my  friend, — go  to 
it!  Here's  his  number." 

[94] 


The  Little  Dinner 


A  little  sheepishly,  Corson  took  the  number  and 
called  up  Dr  Weldon.  The  hearty  response  of  a 
genial  voice  assured  the  inquirer  that  Mr  Vail  had 
spent  the  evening  before  with  the  doctor,  that  he 
had  arrived  late,  having  been  to  a  theater,  and  that 
the  two  had  played  chess  until  nearly  two  o'clock, 
when  Mr  Vail,  surprised  at  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
had  started  for  home.  That  was  the  extent  of  Dr 
Weldon's  information. 

"And  quite  satisfactory,"  Corson  said,  with  a  re 
lieved  air.  "I  had  to  know,  sir,  that  you  weren't 
with  Sir  Herbert.  Now,  I  must  find  out  who  was 
with  him, — of  either  sex." 

"You're  all  right,  Corson,"  Vail  said;  "I  think 
you  see  your  duty  clearly,  and  if  I  can  help  you  in 
any  way,  call  on  me.  And,  look  here,  don't  you  let 
any  suspicion  fasten  itself  on  Bob  Moore.  That 
chap's  all  right.  He's  everlastingly  reading  murder 
yarns,  but  he's  interested  in  the  detective  side  of 
them,  not  the  crime  side.  I  wouldn't  say  this,  but 
I  heard  something  about  his  being  questioned  and 
I  want  to  stand  up  for  him.  In  a  general  way,  I 
mean.  And  as  to  this  case,  it's  very  strange,  I  know, 
but  don't  let  its  strangeness  lead  you  into  impossible 
theories.  You  know,  already,  that  at  the  time  of 
Sir  Herbert  Binney's  murder,  Bob  Moore  was  up 
at  the  tenth  floor, — I  can  testify  to  that, " 

"Now,    I    don't   know,   Mr   Vail,"   and   Corson 
looked  deeply  perplexed.      "What  you  say's   true 
enough,  but  look  here,  we've  only  Moore's  word 
[95]' 


that  he  found  that  man  dying  when  he  came  down. 
Suppose  Sir  Herbert  came  in  and  Moore  stabbed 
him " 

"And  Sir  Herbert  wrote  a  paper  saying  it  was 
women  ?" 

"Well,  no, — but  maybe  Bob  wrote  that  paper  him 
self " 

"You're  getting  pretty  well  tangled  up,  Corson. 
Why  don't  you  put  a  handwriting  expert  on  that  pa 
per,  and  see  if  it's  in  the  dead  man's  fist  or  not?" 

"Good  idea,  Mr  Vail !    I  never  thought  of  it !" 

"Try  it,  and,  excuse  me,  Corson,  but  I  say 
this  in  all  honesty,  I  think  you'd  better  get  some 
help.  I  believe  this  is  a  big  case  and  a  mysterious 
one,  and  it  wouldn't  do  you  any  harm  to  have  a 
colleague  to  advise  with.  Do  as  you  like,  or  as 
you're  told,  but  that's  how  it  looks  to  me.  Now 
I  must  be  off,  but  I'll  come  home  early,  for  I'm  in 
terested  to  know  how  things  go." 

"Hold  on  a  minute,  Mr  Vail;  you  know  Moore 
pretty  well.  Do  you  think  it's  possible  that  he  knows 
who  did  it,  knows  who  the  women  are,  even  per 
haps  saw  the  thing  done,  and  then  helped  them  to 
get  away  and  disposed  of  the  weapon?" 

"Anything  is  possible,  Corson,  but  I  think  what 
you  suggest  is  exceedingly  improbable.  I  know 
Moore  only  from  my  chats  with  him  now  and  then 
in  the  elevator,  and  that's  all  I  can  say.  To  me, 
anything  crooked  in  that  young  man  seems  decidedly 
unlikely." 

[96] 


The  Little  Dinner 


Vail  went  off  leaving  a  sadly  perplexed  detective 
behind  him,  who  felt  that  he  didn't  know  which  way 
to  turn,  and  was  inclined  to  follow  the  advice  he 
had  received  regarding  a  colleague. 

Corson  was  anxious  for  further  talk  with  the 
members  of  the  Prall  household,  but  they  had  not 
made  appearance  yet  and  he  hesitated  to  call  them. 

He  decided  to  run  down  to  the  Magnifique  at  once, 
when  he  received  unexpected  help  from  the  telephone 
operator,  Julie  Baxter. 

"Sir  Herbert  has  a  lot  of  telephone  calls  from 
ladies,"  she  said,  with  a  meaning  glance. 

"Is  that  so  ?    Did  he  have  any  yesterday  ?" 

"Yes,  he  did.  About  five  o'clock,  a  skirt  called 
him  up  and  they  had  a  merry  confab." 

"Who  was  she?" 

"Dunno ;  but  he  called  her  'Babe.'  " 

"Not  very  definite!  Most  girls  get  called  that! 
What  did  she  say?" 

"How  should  I  know  that?"  and  Julie's  big  eyes 
stared  haughtily  at  him. 

"By  the  not  unheard  of  method  of  using  your 
ears.  What  did  she  say?" 

Really  eager  to  tell,  Julie  admitted  that  she  lis 
tened  in,  and  that  an  appointment  was  made  for 
dinner  at  the  Magnifique.  Further  details  she  could 
not  supply. 

Whereupon  Corson  carried  out  his  plan  of  go 
ing  to  the  big  hotel  at  once. 

He  hunted  down  the  head  waiter  of  the  grill 
[97] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


room  of  the  night  before,  and,  having  found  him 
asleep  in  his  room,  waked  him  up  and  proceeded 
to  interrogate  him. 

"You  bet  Sir  Herbert  Binney  was  here,"  the  man 
declared,  when  he  got  himself  fully  awake;  "he  had 
two  of  the  prettiest  little  squabs  I  ever  saw,  along, 
and  they  had  a  jolly  dinner." 

"And  then?" 

"Then  they  all  went  off  to  the  theater,  and  after 
the  show  he  brought  them  back,  also  two  more, — 
four  of  'em  in  all, — and  they  had  supper." 

"All  amicable?" 

"Oh,  yes, — that  is,  at  first.  Later  on,  the  girls 
got  jealous  of  each  other,  and — well,  the  old  chap's 
a  softy,  you  know,  and  they  pretty  much  cleaned  him 
out."  " 

"Just  what  do  you  mean?" 

"Well,  he  made  them  presents,  or  promised  them 
presents, — he's  terribly  rich, — and  each  of  those 
girls  was  afraid  somebody  else  would  get  more  than 
she  did.  So,  they  squabbled  quite  a  lot." 

"Sir  Herbert  was  good  natured?" 

"Yep;  he  just  laughed  and  let  'em  fight  it  out 
among  themselves." 

"Now,  look  here,  did  any  of  those  four  girls 
get  angry  enough  to  wish  Sir  Herbert  any  harm?" 

"Did  they?  Why,  I  heard  Babe  Russell  say  she 
was  going  to  kill  him,  and  Viola  Mersereau,  she 
said,  if  she  was  sure  it  would  never  be  discovered, 
she'd  shoot  him  herself." 

[98] 


The  Little  Dinner 


"Are  you  sure  of  these  things?  Because — some 
body  did  kill  Sir  Herbert  Binney  about  two  o'clock 
this  morning." 

"What!      Who  did  it?" 

"We  don't  know,  but  we've  reason  to  suspect 
women." 

"That's  the  bunch,  then!  Lord,  I  didn't  think 
they'd  go  so  far  as  that !  But  that  Viola  is  a  ring 
leader, — she's  a  vamp,  if  there  ever  was  one !  And 
little  Russell !  Well,  she's  soft  and  babyish  looking 
but  she's  got  the  temper  of  a  wildcat!  And  they 
were  out  for  the  goods,  those  young  she's!  They're 
all  straight,  you  know,  but  they're  just  little  gree- 
dies.  And  that  man  was  their  natural  prey.  Why, 
they  could  get  anything  out  of  him!  Not  pearl 
necklaces  and  diamonds, — I  don't  mean  that, — but 
fans  and  vanity-cases  and  silk  stockings  and  lockets 
and  such  trifles.  Not  trifles  in  the  aggregate, 
though.  That  man  must  have  spent  a  good  big  roll 
on  'em  last  night." 

"How  do  you  mean,  spent  it  ?" 

"Why,  he'd  give  this  one  or  that  one  a  yellowback 
to  buy  a  new  hat,  say, — and  then  the  others  would 
tease  for  new  hats.  And  maybe,  if  he  didn't  have 
the  kale,  he'd  give  'em  checks,  or  he'd  tell  'em  they 
could  have  the  hat  or  the  scarf  or  whatever  charged 
to  him.  But  he  was  strict.  He  told  each  one  the 
limit  she  should  pay,  and  if  she  paid  more,  they 
couldn't  be  friends  any  more.  It  was  a  queer  mix- 
up,  but  all  friendly  and  decent.  He  was  just  like  a 
[99] 


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big  frolicsome  boy,  and  the  girlies  were  like  soft 
little  kittens,  playful, — but,  kittens  can  scratch." 

"And  they  did?" 

"Yes,  there  was  more  real  ill  nature  shown  last 
night  than  ever  before.  Sir  Herbert  wasn't  as  gen 
erous  as  usual;  I  daresay  he's  tired  of  the  game, — 
anyway,  they  couldn't  bamboozle  him  to  more  than 
little  trinkets,  and  I  think  Viola  was  out  for  furs. 
And  furs  mean  money.  But  he  only  smiled  when 
she  hinted  and  she  spoke  more  plainly,  and  then 
when  he  didn't  agree  she  got  mad." 

"You  seem  to  know  all  about  it." 

"Couldn't  help  knowing.  They  took  no  pains 
to  be  quiet,  and  I  was  around  most  of  the  time, 
and  finally  I  became  interested  to  see  how  it  would 
come  out." 

"And  how  did  it?" 

"They  all  went  off  together, — I  mean  the  girls 
did.  He  bundled  'em  into  a  taxicab,  gave  the  driver 
a  bill  and  said  good-night.  That's  the  way  he  al 
ways  does.  He  never  escorts  'em  home.  Then  he 
came  back  in  here,  settled  his  account,  lit  a  cigar 
and  strolled  off  by  himself." 

"At  what  time  was  this?" 

""About  one,  or  a  little  before.  Not  very  late. 
Sir  Herbert's  no  villain.  I  read  him  like  a  book. 
He  just  liked  to  see  those  girls  enjoy  a  good  supper, 
same's  he  liked  to  see  'em  dance  on  the  stage. 
Anyway,  there's  the  history  of  the  evening,  so  far  as 
I  know  anything  about  it." 
[  100  ] 


The  Little  Dinner 


Corson  went  away,  went  to  the  theater  where- 
the  girls  belonged, — found  out  where  they  lived 
and  went  there. 

The  four  lived  in  the  same  boarding  house,  and 
one  and  all  refused  to  appear  at  any  such  unearthly 
hour  as  ten  A.  M. 

But  the  strong  arm  of  the  law  was  used  as  an 
argument,  and,  after  a  time,  four  kimonoed  and  pet 
ulant-faced  maidens  put  in  an  appearance. 

Corson  meant  to  be  very  intimidating,  but  he 
found  himself  wax  in  their  hands.  One  and  all' 
they  denied  knowing  anything  of  Sir  Herbert  Bin- 
ney  after  he  had  entertained  them  at  supper  and 
sent  them  home  in  a  cab. 

They  expressed  mild  surprise  at  his  tragic  fate, 
but  no  real  regret.  They  seemed  to  Corson  like 
four  heartless,  brainless  dolls  who  had  no  thought, 
no  interest  outside  their  silly  selves. 

But  in  the  dark  eyes  of  Viola  Mersereau  and  in 
the  blonde,  rosy  face  of  Babe  Russell  he  saw  un 
mistakable  signs  of  fear, — and,  working  on  this,  he 
blustered  and  accused  and  threatened  until  he  had 
them  all  in  hysteria. 

"You've  not  got  a  chance!"  he  declared.  "You're 
caught  red-handed !  You  two  said  in  so  many  words 
that  you  wished  the  old  chap  was  dead,  and  after 
you  got  home,  you  sneaked  out, — whether  there  were 
others  to  know  it,  or  not,  I  can't  say, — but  you  two 
sneaked  out,  went  to  The  Campanile,  waited  your 
chance,  dashed  in  and  stabbed  the  man  and  dashed 
[101] 


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away  again.  And  you'd  been  safe,  but  for  his  liv 
ing  long  enough  to  tell  on  you !  'Women  did  this !' 
Of  course  they  did!  And  you're  the  women!  Who 
else  could  it  be?  What  other  women, — what  other 
sort  of  women  would  commit  such  a  deed?  Come 
now,  are  you  going  to  own  up?" 


[102] 


CHAPTER  VII 
Enlightening  Interviews 

THE  avalanche  of  denial,  the  flood  of  vitupera 
tion  and  the  general  hullabaloo  that  was  set 
up  by  the  four  girls  at  Corson's  accusation 
reduced  the  detective  to  a  pulp  of  bewilderment.  The 
girls  saw  this  and  pursued  their  advantage.     They 
stormed  and  raged,  and  then,  becoming  less  fright 
ened  they  guyed  and  jollied  the  poor  man  until  he 
determined  that  he  must  have  help  of  some  sort. 

Moreover,  he  felt  sure  now  that  these  youngsters 
never  committed  murder.  Even  the  Mersereau  girl, 
the  vamp,  as  she  had  been  called,  was  a  young  thing 
of  nineteen,  and  her  vampire  effect  was  only  put  on 
when  occasion  demanded. 

"S'posen  I  did  say  I'd  like  to  kill  him!"  she  ex 
claimed,  "that  don't  mean  anything !  S'posen  I  said 
I  died  o'  laughin',  would  you  think  I  was  dead? 
Those  things  are  riggers  of  speech, — that's  what  they 
are!" 

She  paraded  up  and  down  the  room  with  a  trag 
edy-queen  air,  and  rolled  her  practiced  eyeballs  at 
Corson. 

And  Babe  Russell  was  equally  scornful,  though 
her  soft,  gentle  effects  were  the  opposite  of  Viola's 
ways. 

[  103] 


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"Silly!"  she  said,  shaking  her  pinkened  finger  at 
the  detective.  "To  think  us  nice,  pretty  little  girls 
would  kill  a  big  grown-up  man!  First  off,  we 
couldn't  do  it, — we  wouldn't  have  the  noive!  And 
we'd  be  too  'fraid  of  getting  caught.  And  we 
wouldn't  do  it  anyway, — it  isn't  in  the  picture !" 

They  seemed  so  straightforward  and  so  sensible 
that  Corson  began  to  think  it  was  absurd  to  suspect 
them,  and  yet  the  two  he  watched  most  closely  were 
surely  afraid  of  something.  They  talked  gayly,  and 
babbled  on  smilingly,  but  they  glanced  at  each  other 
with  anxious  looks  when  they  thought  the  detective 
wasn't  looking. 

Whatever  troubled  them  concerned  them  anx 
iously,  for  beneath  their  gayety  they  were  dis 
tinctly  nervous. 

Corson  convinced  himself  that  they  had  no  in 
tention  of  running  away  and  could  always  be  found 
if  wanted,  so  he  left,  with  immediate  intention  of 
following  the  advice  of  Mr  Vail  and  attaching  an 
assistant. 

"Not  in  a  thousand  years!"  was  the  opinion  of 
the  assistant,  one  Gibbs,  after  he  heard  Corson's 
tale  of  the  chorus  girls.  "Those  little  chippies 
might  be  quite  willing  to  kill  a  man,  theoretically, 
but  as  for  the  deed  itself,  they  couldn't  put  it  over. 
Still,  they  must  be  remembered.  You  know,  the 
statement  that  women  did  it,  is  surely  the  truth.  Dy 
ing  messages  are  invariably  true.  But  it  may  mean 
that  women  caused  it  to  be  done, — that  it  was  the 
I  104] 


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work  of  women,  even  though  the  actual  stab  thrust 
may  have  been  the  deed  of  a  man." 

"I  don't  think  so,"  mused  Corson.  "You  haven't 
seen  the  paper.  It  said,  not  only,  'Women  did  this,' 

but  it  said  afterward,  'Get '  and  then  there  were 

two  letters  that  looked  like  b-o " 

"No;  I  hadn't  heard  that!  Why,  it  might  have 
been  Ba — and  might  have  meant  Babe  Russell,  after 
all!" 

"No;  it's  bo, — but  it  isn't  a  capital  B.  I  studied 
it  closely,  and  I  have  it  put  away.  I'll  show  it  to 
you." 

"But  the  capital  doesn't  matter.  A  man  writing, 
in  those  circumstances,  with  his  last  effort  of  fading 
strength,  might  easily  use  a  small  letter  instead  of  a 
capital.  Know  anybody  beginning  with  Bo?" 

"No — why,  oh,  my  goodness !    Bob  Moore !" 

"Well,  there's  a  chance.  You've  had  your  eyes 
on  Moore,  haven't  you?" 

"Only  because  he  was  right  there.  But  Mr  Vail, 
— George  Vail,  of  the  Vail  Bread  Company, — stands 
up  for  Moore.  To  be  sure,  it  was  only  in  a  gen 
eral  way, — we  only  talked  a  few  moments, — but 
he  seemed  to  think  Moore  is  on  the  detective  order, 
— not  of  a  criminal  sort." 

"Why  must  Moore  necessarily  be  either?" 

"Only  because  he's  a  detective  story  shark.  Reads 
murder  yarns  all  the  time,  and  goes  to  detective 
story  movies." 

"That  proves  just  nothing  at  all.  But  the  'Get 
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Bo — '  is  important.  Anybody  else  around,  begin 
ning  with  Bo, — or  Ba?  You  see,  he  naturally 
wouldn't  form  the  letters  perfectly." 

"Ba?     There's  Julie  Baxter,  the  telephone  girl." 

"He'd  hardly  speak  of  her  as  Baxter." 

"But, — oh,  I  say,  Gibbs,  Moore  testifies  that,  as 
the  man  died,  he  tried  to  say  something  and  it 

sounded  like  'Get  J — J '  some  name  beginning 

with  J!" 

"Hello!  We  must  inquire  as  to  the  fair  Julie. 
Any  one  else?" 

"No;  no  women,  that  I  know  of.  Young  Bates, 
the  heir,  begins  his  name  with  Ba,  but  he's  not  a 
woman." 

"Have  you  looked  up  his  record  for  last  even 
ing?  What  was  he  doing?" 

"No,  I  haven't.  A  man  can't  do  everything  at 
once !" 

"This  thing  seems  to  have  a  dozen  different  han 
dles.  First  of  all,  I  think  we  want  to  see  the  fam 
ily." 

"But  he  hadn't  any  family." 

"Well,  relatives,  connections,  anybody  most  in 
terested.  Especially  the  heir." 

So  the  two  went  to  the  apartment  of  Letitia  Prall, 
and  there  found  the  family  connections  of  Sir  Her 
bert  Binney  in  a  high  state  of  excitement. 

It  was  nearly  noon,  and  Richard  Bates  was  im 
patiently  waiting  the  arrival  of  the  detective,  whom 
he  had  been  expecting  all  the  morning. 
[106] 


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"Look  here,"  he  said  to  the  two  men  when  they 
came  in,  "I  want  you  to  take  hold  of  this  case  with 
me, — if  you  can't  do  it,  I'll  get  somebody  who  can. 
I  don't  want  you  to  be  off  skylarking  on  a  wild 
goose  chase,  while  I  sit  here  waiting  for  you " 

"One  moment,  Mr  Bates,"  said  Corson,  sharply; 
"we're  not  detectives  in  your  employ;  we're  police 
officers,  and  we're  conducting  this  case  in  accordance 
with  orders." 

"Well,  well,  let's  get  at  it,  and  see  where  we 
stand.  What  do  you  know?" 

"Only  the  message  on  the  paper  left  by  your  un 
cle,  and  such  testimony  as  we  could  gather  from  the 
employees  downstairs."  Now,  we  want  to  inter 
view  you." 

"And  I  want  to  be  interviewed.    Go  ahead." 

"Interview  all  of  us,"  put  in  Eliza  Gurney,  who 
with  Miss  Prall  had  sat  silent  during  the  men's  col 
loquy,  but  was  quite  ready  to  talk. 

"One  at  a  time,"  and  Gibbs  took  up  the  conversa 
tion.  "Mr  Bates,  where  were  you  last  evening?" 

"That,"  said  Richard,  "I  decline  to  state,  on  the 
grounds  that  it  has  no  bearing  on  the  question  of 
my  uncle's  death.  If  you  ask  me  where  I  was  at 
the  time  of  the  tragedy,  or  shortly  before,  I  will 
tell  you.  But  last  evening  or  yesterday  afternoon 
or  morning  are  not  pertinent." 

"You  refuse  to  state  where  you  spent  last  even 
ing?" 

"I  do." 

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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Not  a  good  thing  for  you  to  do,"  Gibbs  shook 
his  head,  ''but  let  it  pass  for  the  moment.  Where 
were  you  at  two  o'clock  this  morning?" 

"In  bed  and  asleep." 

"You  can  prove  this?" 

"By  me!"  spoke  up  Letitia  Prall.  "I  heard  him 
come  in  about  twelve  and  go  to  his  room." 

"H'm.  Proof  to  a  degree.  How  do  you  know 
he  didn't  leave  the  apartment  later?" 

"Because  I  didn't  hear  him  do  so." 

"Where  is  his  room,  and  where  is  your  own?" 

After  being  shown  the  respective  bedrooms,  Gibbs 
remarked  that  in  his  opinion  Bates  could  easily  have 
left  his  room  without  Miss  Frail's  knowledge,  if  she 
were  asleep  at  the  time. 

"Unless  you  are  unusually  acute  of  hearing,  are 
you?" 

Now  this  was  a  sensitive  point  with  the  spinster. 
Her  hearing  was  not  what  it  had  once  been,  but  she 
never  acknowledged  it.  She  greatly  resented  the 
busy  finger  of  time  as  it  touched  Jier  here  and  there, 
and  often  pretended  she  heard  when  she  did  not. 
Both  her  nephew  and  her  companion  good-naturedly 
humored  her  in  this  little  foible,  and  at  Gibbs'  ques 
tion  they  looked  up,  uncertainly. 

"Of  course  I  am!"  was  Miss  Frail's  indignant 
reply  to  the  detective's  question.  "I  hear  perfectly." 

"Are  you  sure?"  said  Gibbs,  mildly;  "for  I  have 
noticed  several  times  when  you  have  seemed  not  to 
hear  a  side  remark." 

[108] 


Enlightening  Interviews 


"Inattention,  then,"  snapped  Letitia.  "I  am  a 
thoughtful  person,  and  I  often  take  little  notice 
of  others'  chatter." 

"But  you  are  sure  you  could  have  heard  your 
nephew  if  he  had  gone  out  of  his  place  last  night 
after " 

"But  I  didn't  go  out!"  declared  Bates.  "You're 
absurd  to  imply  that  I  did,  unless,  you  have  some 
reason  on  which  to  base  your  accusation!" 

"We  have  to  locate  you  before  we  can  go  fur 
ther,  Mr  Bates,"  insisted  Gibbs,  who  had  assumed 
leadership,  while  Corson  sat,  with  folded  arms,  tak 
ing  in  anything  he  found  to  notice. 

And  Corson,  though  lacking  in  initiative,  was  a 
close  observer,  and  he  saw  a  lot  that  would  have 
escaped  his  notice  had  he  been  obliged  to  carry  on 
the  inquiry. 

"Let's  try  it,"  Corson  said,  suddenly.  "Go  into 
your  room,  please,  Miss  Prall,  and  shut  the  door, 
and  see  if  you  can  hear  me  go  out." 

"Of  course  I  can!"  and  with  a  determined  air, 
Miss  Prall  went  into  her  room  and  closed  the  door 
quite  audibly. 

Lifting  his  ringer  with  a  gesture  of  admonition, 
Corson  made  every  one  sit  perfectly  still  and  with 
out  speaking  for  about  two  minutes. 

Then,  rising  himself,  he  opened  Miss  Frail's  door 
and  bade  her  come  out. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "I  admit  I  made  as  little  noise 
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as  possible,  but  did  you  hear  me  go  out  of  the  front 
door?" 

"Of  course  I  did!"  declared  the  spinster,  haught 
ily.  "I  heard  you  tiptoe  to  the  door,  open  it  stealth 
ily  and  close  it  the  same  way." 

She  looked  calmly  about,  and  then  seeing  the 
consternation  on  the  faces  of  Richard  and  Eliza  and 
the  amused  satisfaction  on  the  countenances  of  the 
detectives,  she  saw  she  had  made  a  false  step,  and 
became  irate. 

"What  is  it?"  she  began,  but  Richard  interrupted 
her. 

"Don't  say  a  word,  Auntie,"  he  begged ;  "you  see 
gentlemen,  Miss  Prall  is  a  little  sensitive  about  her 
slight  deafness,  and  sometimes  she  imagines  sounds 
that  are  not  real." 

"I'm  not  deaf!"  Letitia  cried,  but  Eliza  inter 
posed  : 

"Do  hush,  Letitia.  You  only  make  matters 
worse!  Will  you  be  quiet?" 

The  tone  more  than  the  words  caused  Miss  Prall 
to  drop  the  subject,  and  Gibbs  proceeded. 

"Now,  you  see,  Mr.  Bates,  we  can't  accept  your 
aunt's  testimony  that  you  didn't  leave  your  room 
last  night." 

"I  didn't  ask  you  to,"  retorted  Richard ;  "nor  do  I 
need  it.  I  tell  you  I  was  in  bed  by  or  before  mid 
night,  and  did  not  leave  my  bed  until  I  was  sum 
moned  by  Bob  Moore  after  the  tragedy  had  oc 
curred.  Now,  unless  you  have  some  definite  and 
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Enlightening  Interviews 


sufficient  reason  to  suspect  me  of  falsehood,  I  have 
no  need  to  bring  any  proof  of  my  assertion." 

"That's  so,  Gibbs,"  said  Corson,  meditatively. 
"There's  no  reason,  I  know  of,  to  inquire  into  Mr 
Bates'  doings." 

"There's  reason  to  inquire  into  the  doings  of  ev 
erybody  who  had  the  slightest  connection  with  this 
matter,"  said  Gibbs  severely.  "But  unless  there's  a 
doubt,  we  needn't  yet  ask  for  proof  of  their  words." 

He  glared  at  Miss  Prall,  with  the  evident  implica 
tion  that  he  might  feel  a  doubt  of  her  word. 

However,  when  she  and  Miss  Gurney  stated  that 
they  had  retired  at  about  eleven  and  had  not  left 
their  rooms  until  called  up  by  Richard  to  hear  the 
tragic  news,  no  comment  was  made  by  Gibbs  and 
Corson  merely  looked  at  them  abstractedly  with  the 
air  of  a  preoccupied  owl. 

"Then,"  resumed  Corson,  "now  that  we've  placed 
your  whereabouts  and  occupations,  will  you  state, 
any  or  all  of  you,  what  opinion  you  hold  as  to  the 
identity  of  the  women  who  are  responsible  for  the 
death  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney?" 

"Those  chorus  girls,"  said  Miss  Letitia,  prompt 
ly.  "I  always  told  him  he'd  get  into  a  moil  with 
them,  and  they'd  fleece  him.  They  are  a  smart  lot, 
and  Sir  Herbert,  though  a  shrewd  business  man, 
was  putty  in  the  hands  of  a  clever  or  designing 
woman !" 

"But  these  girls  are  mere  children — " 

"In  years,  perhaps,"  Miss  Prall  broke  in,  "but  not 
[in] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


in  iniquity.  A  gentleman  of  Sir  Herbert's  mild  and 
generous  nature  could  be  bamboozled  by  these  wise 
and  wicked  little  vampires  until  they'd  stripped  him 
of  his  last  cent !" 

"You  seem  to  know  a  lot  about  them,  Madam." 

"Because  Sir  Herbert  has  told  me.  He  often 
described  the  cleverness  with  which  they  wheedled 
and  coerced  him  into  undue  generosity,  and  though 
he  laughed  about  it,  it  was  with  an  undercurrent  of 
chagrin  and  vexation.  And  so,  the  time  came,  I  feel 
certain,  when  Sir  Herbert,  like  the  worm  in  the 
proverb,  turned,  and  what  he  did  or  said,  I  don't 
know,  but  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that  it  led, 
in  some  way,  to  such  hard  feeling  and  such  a  deep 
and  desperate  quarrel,  that  the  affair  resulted  in 
tragedy." 

Gibbs  looked  at  the  speaker. 

The  Grenadier,  as  some  people  called  her,  sat  up 
right,  and  her  fine  head  nodded  with  stern  denunci 
ation  of  the  young  women  she  accused. 

Her  tight-set  lips  and  glittering  eyes  showed  hat 
red  and  scorn,  yet  her  fingers  nervously  interlaced 
and  her  voice  shook  a  little  as  if  from  over-strained 
nerves. 

Even  more  nervous  was  Miss  Gurney.  Unable 
to  sit  still,  she  moved  restlessly  from  one  chair  to 
another, — even  now  and  then  left  the  room,  hurrying 
back,  as  if  afraid  of  missing  something. 

"Do  sit  still,   Eliza,"   said  Miss   Prall,   at  last; 

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Enlightening  Interviews 


"you're  enough  to  drive  any  one  distracted  with  your 
running  about  like  a  hen  with  its  head  off !" 

"I  feel  like  one!  Here's  poor  Sir  Herbert  dead, 
and  nobody  paying  any  attention  to  it, — except  to 
find  out  who  killed  him !  I  think  our  duty  is  first  to 
the  dead,  and  after  that " 

"Keep  still,  Eliza,"  ordered  Bates,  who  was  never 
very  patient  with  his  aunt's  irritating  and  irritable 
companion.  "Sir  Herbert's  body  and  his  affairs 
will  be  duly  taken  care  of.  It's  necessary  now  to  dis 
cover  his  murderer,  of  course,  and  the  sooner  inves 
tigation  is  made  the  more  hope  of  finding 
the  criminal." 

"Or  criminals,"  put  in  Gibbs.  "Since  seeing  that 
paper,  I  feel  convinced  that  the  dying  man  tried  to 
write  'get  both,"  meaning  to  insure  punishing  to  the 
women  who  killed  him." 

"Then  you  think  women  really  did  the  deed?" 
asked  Bates,  a  strange  fear  in  his  blue  eyes. 

"Yes,  I  do";  Gibbs  stated,  "but  Corson  thinks 
women  were  merely  at  the  root  of  the  trouble.  How 
ever,  that  isn't  the  point  just  now.  That  will  all 
be  learned  later.  First,  we  must  get  an  idea  of 
which  way  to  look.  And,  too,  I  may  be  wrong. 
The  illegible  word  on  that  paper  may  mean,  as  Cor 
son  thinks,  the  beginning  of  some  name.  The  fact 
that  the  B  is  not  a  capital  doesn't  count  for  much 
when  we  realize  the  circumstances  of  the  writing." 

"I  should  say  not !"  and  Miss  Prall  looked  straight 
at  him.  "Think  of  that  poor  dying  man  trying  to 

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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


write,  while  his  life  blood  ebbed  away!  And  can 
you  fail  to  heed  his  dying  message?  Can  you  fail 
to  get  those  wicked,  vicious  little  wretches  who  heart 
lessly  lured  him  on  and  on  in  their  wild  orgies,  un 
til  it  all  resulted  in  his  fearful  end !  I,  for  one,  shall 
never  be  satisfied  until  those  foolish,  flippant  little 
things  are  punished " 

"Oh,  Letitia,"  wailed  Miss  Gurney,  "bad  as  they 
are,  you  wouldn't  want  to  see  them  all  stuffed  into  an 
electric  chair,  would  you,  now?" 

The  mental  picture  of  the  chorus  girls  crowded 
into  a  single  electric  chair  was  almost  too  much  for 
Richard's  sense  of  humor,  and  he  smiled,  but  Miss 
Gurney  went  on : 

"But,  anyway,  if  a  pack  of  girls  did  do  it,  don't 
think  it  was  the  chorus  girls.  They're  too  frivolous 
and  light  hearted.  I  think  you'd  better  look  nearer 
home.  The  girls  in  this  house  were  all  down  on  Sir 
Herbert.  None  of  them  liked  him,  and  he  was  al 
ways  berating  them,  both  to  us,  and  to  their  very 
faces.  That  telephone  girl,  now, " 

"Eliza,  will  you  keep  still?"  fumed  Miss  Prall. 
"Why  do  you  suggest  anybody?  These  detectives 
are  here  to  find  out  the  murderers  and  they  not  only 
need  no  help  from  you,  but  they  are  held  back  and 
bothered  by  your  interference.  Please  remain 
quiet !" 

"I'll  talk  all  I  like,  Letitia  Prall ;  I  guess  I  know 
what's  best  for  your  interests  as  well  as  my  own." 

"You  haven't  any  interests  separate  from  mine, 
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Enlightening  Interviews 


and  I  can  look  after  myself !  Now,  you  do  as  I  tell 
you,  and  say  nothing  more  on  this  subject  at  all.  If 
Sir  Herbert  was  the  victim  of  his  foolish  penchant 
for  those  light  young  women,  I'm  not  sure  it  doesn't 
serve  him  right " 

"Oh,  Auntie!"  exclaimed  Bates,  truly  pained  at 
this.  "Don't  talk  so!" 

"What  right  have  you  got  to  dictate  to  me?  You 
keep  still,  too,  Rick, — in  fact,  the  least  we  any  of  us 
say,  the  better." 

"Oh,  no,  Miss  Prall,"  said  Gibbs,  suavely,  "if 
there's  anything  you  know,  it  will  really  be  better  for 
all  concerned  that  you  should  tell  it.  As  to  your 
opinions  or  ideas  or  theories,  I  hold  you  quite  ex 
cusable  if  you  keep  those  to  yourselves." 

"And  you'd  prefer  I  should  do  so,  I  suppose! 
Well,  I  will.  And  as  to  facts,  I  know  of  none  that 
could  help  you,  so  I  will  say  nothing." 

"Miss  Gurney,"  and  Gibbs  turned  toward  her 
with  a  determined  glance,  "you  spoke  of  the  young 
women  employed  in  the  house;  had  you  any  one  in 
mind?" 

"Eliza "  began  Miss  Prall,  but  Gibbs  stopped 

her. 

"Beg  pardon,  ma'am,  but  I  must  request  that  you 
let  Miss  Gurney  speak  for  herself.  You  have  no 
right  to  forbid  her,  and  I  insist  upon  my  right  to 
ask." 

"Nobody  in  particular,"  Miss  Gurney  asserted,  as 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


she  looked  timidly  at  Letitia.  "But  Sir  Herbert's 
chambermaid, " 

"Yes,  go  on." 

"Well,  she  refused  to  take  care  of  his  room,  he 
was  so  cross  to  her.  But  I  don't  suppose  she'd  kill 
him  just  for  that." 

"I'll  look  up  the  matter.  Glad  you  mentioned  it. 
And  they  gave  him  another  maid?" 

"Yes,  the  same  one  we  have." 

"I  must  have  a  talk  with  her.  Much  may  be 
learned  from  a  room  servant.  That's  what  I  want, 
facts, — not  theories.  We've  got  the  big  primal 
fact, — 'women  did  it.'  We've  got  a  possible  fact, — 
an  uncertain  statement, — 'get  both' — or,  maybe,  get 
some  particular  person.  Now  any  side  lights  we  can 
get  that  may  throw  illumination  on  that  uncertain 
bit  of  writing  is  what  is  needed  to  show  us  which 
way  to  look.  Isn't  that  right,  Mr.  Bates?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so.  Personally,  I  can't 
seem  to  see  women  doing  such  a  deed " 

"That,  sir,  is  the  r^ult  of  your  own  manly  out 
look  and  your  lack  of  experience  with  a  desperate 
woman.  You  know,  'Hell  hath  no  fury  like  a  woman 
scorned,'  and  we  can  readily  imagine  a  woman 
scorned  by  this  Sir  Herbert." 

"He  could  do  the  scorning,  all  right " 

"And  they  could  do  the  rest !    Oh,  yes,  sir,  it  isn't 

a  pleasant  thing  to  believe,  but  it  is  a  fact  that 

women  can  be  just  as  revengeful,  just  as  vindictive, 

just  as  cruel  as  men, — and  can  commit  just  as  great 

[116] 


Enlightening  Interviews 


crimes,  though  as  we  all  know,  such  women  are  the 
exception.  But  they  are  in  existence  and  that  fact 
must  be  recognized  and  remembered." 

"But  the  circumstances — "  demurred  Bates,  "the 
time " 

"My  dear  sir,  it  seems  to  me  the  circumstances 
and  time  were  most  favorable  for  the  work  of 
women.  Granting  some  women  wanted  to  kill  that 
man,  or  had  determined  to  kill  him, — or  even,  killed 
him  on  a  sudden  irresistible  impulse,  what  more  con 
ducive  to  an  opportunity  than  this  house  late  at 
night?  The  great  lobby,  guarded,  as  it  is  at  that 
hour,  by  only  one  man  and  he  often  up  in  the  as 
cending  elevator  car.  You  see,  the  women  could 
easily  have  been  in  hiding  in  that  onyx  lobby.  The 
great  pillars  give  most  convenient  and  unobservable 
places  of  concealment,  and  they  could  have  been 
tucked  away  there  for  a  long  time,  waiting." 

"Oh,  ridiculous !  Supposing  my  uncle  hadn't  come 
in? 

"Then  they  could  have  slipped  out  again.  They 
may  have  been  hidden  there  night  after  night,  wait 
ing  for  just  the  chance  that  came  last  night." 

"But,  suppose  Moore  had  been  downstairs  when 
Sir  Herbert  entered — " 

"Just  the  same,"  Gibbs  explained,  wearily.  "Then 
they  would  have  gone  away  and  tried  again  the 
next  night.  A  woman's  perseverance  and  patience 
is  beyond  all  words!" 

"It's  all  beyond  all  words,"  and  Richard  folded 
[II?] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


his  arms  despondently.  "I  can't  get  a  line  on  it." 
"Well,  I  can,"  asserted  Gibbs;  "they  came,  no 
doubt,  prepared.  Else,  where'd  they  get  the  knife? 
Now,  naturally  one  criminal  would  be  assumed, — 
that's  why  women  was  written  so  clearly.  Several 
who  know,  have  agreed  the  handwriting  is  positively 
that  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney, — so,  there's  nothing  left 
to  do  but  cherches  les  femmes." 


[118] 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Julie  Baxter 

RICHARD  BATES  and  the  two  detectives 
stood  waiting  for  the  already  summoned 
elevator  to  take  them  downstairs. 

"You  see,"  Gibbs  was  saying,  "in  nearly  every 
investigation  there's  somebody  who  won't  tell  where 
he  was  at  the  time  of  the  crime." 

"I  will  tell  that,"  exploded  Bates,  "only  I  won't 
tell  where  I  was  through  the  evening,  and,  you  know 
yourself,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  case." 

"I  know,  and,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  it  doesn't 
matter  what  the  people  were  doing  who  refuse  to 
tell.  But  it  might  make  a  difference,  and  it's  al 
ways  a  bother  to  be  worrying  about  it." 

"Why  worry?" 

"Because  it  may  pay.  According  to  Corson's 
hunch,  two  of  those  chorus  chicks  don't  want  to  tell 
where  they  were  at  the  time  of  the  crime " 

"Oh,  well,  they  wouldn't " 

"I  know ;  but  it's  an  uncertainty.  Now,  take  your 
aunt.  She  falsified  about  hearing  your  front  door 
close  just  now.  I've  a  full  belief  that  was  merely 
because  of  a  piffling  vanity  about  her  deafness, — a 
thing  nobody  wants  to  admit, — but,  I  wish  she 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


hadn't,  for  it  proves  that  she  is  not  above  prevarica 
tion." 

"I  don't  think  she  would  fib  in  any  serious  mat 
ter,"  vouchsafed  Richard. 

"You  don't  think  so  because  you  don't  want  to 
think  so.  That  can't  cut  any  ice  with  me,  you 
know." 

The  elevator  stopped  and  the  three  went  down. 

In  a  business-like  way,  Gibbs  rounded  up  all  the 
girl  employees  available  and  put  them  through  a 
rigid  investigation. 

They  were  a  voluble  lot,  and  it  was  easier  to  get 
information  than  to  prevent  it. 

Daisy  Lee  was  among  the  most  vindictive.  Al 
though  a  frail,  pale  little  thing,  she  was  full  of  indig 
nation  at  the  late  Sir  Herbert's  ways,  and  expressed 
herself  without  reserve. 

"He  was  an  old  nuisance !"  she  averred ;  "he  was 
free  with  his  presents  and  he  was  a  gentleman, — 
I'll  say  that  for  him, — but  he  thought  he  could  pat 
any  girl  on  her  shoulder  or  even  snatch  a  kiss, 
without  making  her  mad.  He  made  me  so  mad  I 
wanted  to  kill  him, — and  I  told  him  so,  lots  of 
times.  I  didn't,  and  there's  no  way  I  could  have 
done  it,  so  I  am  not  afraid  to  say  that  I  would  have 
stabbed  him  myself  if  I'd  had  a  good  chance!" 

"You  don't  mean  that,  Miss  Lee,1*  said  Gibbs, 
coolly,  "and  you're  only  saying  it  to  make  a  sensa 
tion." 

"Why,  what  a  story!"  and  Daisy  turned  on  him. 
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Julie  Baxter 

"Well,  that  is,  I  don't  suppose  I  really  would  havo 
done  the  actual  killing,  but  I'd  have  the  will  to." 

"Quite  a  different  matter,"  said  the  detective, 
"and  your  will  v/ould  have  fizzled  out  at  the  critical 
moment." 

"Of  course  it  would,"  put  in  Julie  Baxter,  the  tel 
ephone  girl.  "Daisy's  an  awful  bluffer.  None  of 
us  girls  would  kill  anybody.  But  one  and  all  we 
are  glad  to  be  rid  of  Sir  Herbert,  though  I  can't  help 
being  sorry  he's  killed." 

"You  mean  you'd  have  been  glad  to  be  rid  of  him 
in  some  more  peaceable  fashion?" 

"That's  exactly  what  I  mean.  He  was  insuffer 
able " 

"In  what  way?"      „ 

"Not  only,  as  Daisy  says,  because  he  had  free 
manners,  but  he  was  silly,  beside.  Always  saying, 
'Well,  little  one,  how  do  you  like  my  new  necktie?' 
or  some  foolishness  like  that." 

Richard  Bates  looked  uncomfortable.  "Need  I 
stay?"  he  inquired.  "You  must  realize  I  dislike  to 
hear  this  talk  about  my  uncle." 

"Stay,  please,"  returned  Corson,  briefly;  "and, 
young  ladies,  don't  give  us  any  more  of  your 
opinions  of  Sir  Herbert,  but  tell,  if  you  know,  of 
any  circumstance  bearing  on  his  death." 

Apparently  none  knew  of  any  such,  and  the  girls 
looked  at  each  other  in  silence. 

"And  now,  tell  me  where  you  were  at  two  A.  M., 
each  of  you,  and  then  you  may  be  excused." 

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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Every  one  declared  that  she  had  been  home  and 
in  bed  at  that  hour,  except  Julie  Baxter.  She,  with 
a  fine  show  of  independence,  refused  to  disclose  her 
whereabouts  at  that  time. 

"There  it  is  again,"  said  Corson  in  despair. 
"Now,  Miss  Baxter,  I  don't  think  that  your  reticence 
necessarily  incriminates  you  at  all,  but  it  leaves  room 
for  doubt.  Take  my  word  for  it,  it  woud  be  wiser 
and  far  better  for  you  to  tell  frankly  where  you 
were,  even  if  it  calls  for  criticism  from  your  mates." 

"But  I  won't  tell,"  and  Julie  looked  very  stub 
born. 

"You'd  rather  be  arrested  and  held  on  suspicion?" 

"You  can't  arrest  me  without  a  speck  of  evidence ! 
Nor  you  can't  scare  me  by  such  threats." 

"It  isn't  an  idle  threat,  and  you  can  be  held  for 
further  inquiry,  if  I  say  so." 

"You  won't  say  so,  and  anyway  I  won't  say  where 
I  was  last  night.  But  I  will  say  I  was  up  to  no 
harm,  and  had  no  hand  in  the  death  of  Sir  Herbert 
Binney." 

"I  don't,  as  yet,  think  you  did ;  but  let  me  remark 
that  if  you  were  implicated  in  the  matter  you  would 
act  and  speak  just  as  you  do  now."  You  would,  of 
course,  asseverate  your  innocence " 

"Of  course  I  should.  So,  now,  Mr  Smarty-Cat, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

Julie's  eyes  snapped  with  anger  that  seemed  al 
most  vicious,  and  she  tossed  her  head  independently, 
while  the  other  girls  showed  little  or  no  sympathy. 
[  122  ] 


Julie  Baxter 

She  was  not  a  favorite  with  her  fellow-workers; 
they  called  her  stuck-up,  and  she  not  only  refused 
to  take  them  into  her  confidence  as  to  her  amuse 
ments  and  entertainments,  but  she  often  whetted 
their  curiosity  by  mysterious  hints  of  grand  doings 
of  which  she  never  told  them  definitely. 

She  lived  in  herself  during  her  hours  on  duty,  and 
even  in  the  rest  room  she  was  never  chummy  or 
chatty  like  the  rest. 

Wherefore,  there  were  surprised  glances  and  nod 
ding  heads  in  her  direction,  and  Daisy  Lee  sniffed 
openly. 

"Huh,"  she  said,  "Julie  Baxter,  you're  too  smart. 
You  were  more  friendly  with  Sir  Binney  than  any 
of  us.  He  gave  you  twice  the  candy  he  did  any  one 
else,  and  I  know  you've  been  out  to  dinner  with 
him!" 

"I  have  not!"  declared  Julie,  but  a  flush  on  her 
cheeks  and  a  quiver  of  her  eyelids  left  room  for 
doubt  as  to  her  truthfulness. 

"Also,"  and  Corson  flung  this  at  her,  "also,  on 
the  paper  was  written  'get  B-a-'  and  also,  we've 
been  told  that  the  dying  man  tried  to  articulate  a 
name  beginning  with  J !" 

"Now,  Miss  Baxter,  do  you  still  deny  all  impli 
cation  in  the  affair?"  Gibbs  leaned  forward  and 
stared  into  her  eyes. 

"I  do!"  she  cried,  but  her  voice  was  hysterical 
and  her  manner  agitated.  Vainly  she  strove  to  keep 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


her  self-control,  but,  unable  to  do  so  and  broke  into 
a  fit  of  uncontrollable  weeping. 

"Oh,  I  say,  Corson,"  said  tender-hearted  Bates, 
"you  oughtn't  to  bully  her!  That's  nothing  short 
of  third  degree!" 

"Well,  I'll  put  it  through,  if  I  can  get  the  truth 
that  way.  Now,  Miss  Baxter,  if  you'll  tell  us,  in 
your  own  self-defense  where  you  were  that  night, 
you  may  go.  If  not,  I  think  we'll  have  to  ask  you 
to  go  away  with  us  to " 

"Don't  take  me  away!"  moaned  Julie,  "and  don't 
ask  me  about  last  night !  I  didn't  kill  him — truly,  I 
didn't!" 

"But  you  know  something  about  it, — you  must 
be  detained  as  a  material  witness " 

"Wait  till  I  talk  to  somebody — ask  somebody's 
advice " 

"She  means  Bob  Moore,"  Daisy  informed  them; 
"they're  engaged,  and  Julie'll  say  just  what  Bob 
tells  her  to." 

"Oho !  You're  engaged  to  Moore,  eh?"  and  Gibbs 
gazed  at  her  with  fresh  interest. 

And  then,  stepping  from  the  door  of  the  elevator, 
came  Dorcas  Everett,  and  Richard  Bates  lost  all 
desire  to  hear  further  evidence  from  the  questioned 
girls. 

With  a  brief  but  determined  apology,  he  left  the 
alcove,  where  they  had  been  talking,  and  hurried 
to  Dorcas'  side. 

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Julie  Baxter 

"Have  you  heard?"  he  said,  as  he  fell  into  step 
and  walked  with  her  toward  the  door. 

"Yes;  I  can't  talk  here, — I  can't  breathe!  Can 
we  go  for  a  walk?" 

"Of  course,  why  not?" 

"I  thought  you  were  busy  with  those — people." 

"Perhaps  they  think  so,  too,  but  I  don't  care! 
Come  on;  hasten  your  steps  just  a  little  and  don't 
look  back." 

Apparently  carelessly,  but  really  with  a  feeling  of 
stealth,  the  pair  made  their  way  to  the  street,  Bates 
feeling  guiltily  conscious  of  the  detectives'  disap 
proval,  and  Dorcas  afraid  of  her  action  being  re 
ported  to  her  mother. 

"I've  been  waiting  so  to  see  you,"  she  exclaimed, 
as  soon  as  they  were  at  a  safe  distance  from  The 
Campanile.  "Do  tell  me  all  about  it !  My  mother 
has  gone  to  call  on  your  aunt, — and  I  thought  I'd 
come  down  and  see  if  I  could  run  across  you. 
Mother'll  be  there  some  time,  I've  no  doubt,  and  I 
took  a  chance." 

"Bless  you!  But,  tell  me,  how  did  your  mother 
hear?  What  do  you  know?  I  mean,  what's  the 
general  report?" 

"Nothing  definite,  but  all  sorts  of  rumors, — which 
mother  tried  to  keep  from  me.  But  she  and  Kate 
were  talking,  and  I  found  out  that  the  chambermaid 
told  them  that  women  had  killed  Sir  Herbert. 
Mother  told  me  he  had  died  suddenly,  but  she  didn't 
know  I  overheard  about  the  murder." 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Yes ;  it's  true.  He  was  murdered  and  he  left  a 
dying  statement  that  women  did  it.  It's  a  horrible 
affair,  and  I  wish  you  needn't  know  the  details. 
Can't  you  go  away  or  something  till  it  is  all  past 
history?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to.  I'm  no  child  to  be  put  to 
bed  like  that!  But  Mother  has  been  urging  me  to 
go  away, — and  yesterday  she  said  she's  going  to 
move  anyway.  If  she  should  send  me  to  Auntie 
Fay  re's — but  she  won't " 

"If  she  should,  what?"  cried  Richard,  eagerly; 
"Do  you  mean  that  in  that  case,  we  might  meet  now 
and  then?" 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  meant, — but,  we  couldn't  if 
this  matter  is  public  property,  and  I  suppose  it  is,  or 
will  be?" 

"Yes,  of  course;  but  it  can't  last  long.  You  see, 
dear,  there's  bound  to  be  an  awful  disclosure  of 
some  sort.  Women  don't  kill  a  man  without  some 
big  reason, — at  least  big  to  them." 

"But  who  did  it?    What  women?" 

"We  don't  know.  The  probabilities  are  that  it 
was  some  girls  he  had  flirted  with.  Oh,  Dork,  don't 
ask  questions;  it's  a  disgraceful  affair,  I  fear.  I 
don't  know, — if  a  man  had  done  it,  I  should  think 
it  merely  the  result  of  Uncle's  wild  temper.  He  was 
av, -i.LU  wnen  m  a  rage.  But  the  feminine  element 
makes  only  unpleasant  theories  possible.  And  yet, 
Uncle  was  a  gentleman  and  a  decent  one.  I  believe 
it  was  the  work  of  some  women  who  had  a  fancied 
[126] 


Julie  Baxter 

grievance  and  who  were  jealous  or  revengeful  for 
some  foolish  reason.  But,  of  course,  there's  no 
telling  what  evidence  will  turn  up.  And  I  must  be 
prepared  for  embarrassing  disclosures." 
"You're  the  heir,  aren't  you,  Rick?" 
"So  far  as  I  know.  Uncle  made  me  that,  but  he 
may  have  changed  his  mind.  His  lawyers  have  his 
will,  and  I've  made  no  inquiries  as  yet.  You  see, 
Dork,  there's  so  much  to  see  to.  Why,  I've  got  to 
take  care  of  Aunt  Letty  and  Eliza, — I  mean,  shield 
them  from  publicity  and  reporters  and  all  that.  I've 
no  business  to  sneak  off  here  with  you,  but  I  couldn't 
help  it!" 

"But  tell  me  this;  what  women  are  suspected? 
What  ones  are  possible  suspects?" 

"Some  chorus  girls  and  the  house  girls,  so  far." 

"House  girls  ?    You  mean  the  elevator  girls " 

"Yes,  and  telephone  operators  and  perhaps  cham 
bermaids, — oh,  Dorrie,  Uncle  Bin  was  the  sort  of  a 
man  who  is  jolly  with  any  woman.  I'm  willing  to 
bet  there  was  never  a  really  wrong  idea  in  his  head, 
but  he  was  so  carelessly  gay  and  chummy  with  them 
all,  that  a  vicious  or  wicked  woman  could  play  the 
devil  with  him!" 

"Poor  Sir  Herbert,— I  rather  liked  him." 
"He  liked  you, — he  said  so.    And  he  was  in  favor 
of  our  marriage,  which  is  more  than  we  can  say  for 
any  of  our  nearer  relatives." 

"Yes,    indeed!    Mother    gets    more    and    more 
wrathy  about  Miss  Letty  every  day  of  her  life, — 
[127] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


and  I  expect  this  matter  will  just  about  finish  her!" 

"I  suppose  so.  Now,  we  must  get  back,  for  my 
reasons  and  your  own  good.  When  can  I  see  you 
again?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  It  all  depends  on  the  outcome 
of  the  present  meeting  of  the  two.  If  your  aunt 
seems  to  want  sympathy  or  help  I  daresay  Mother 
would  feel  kindly  toward  her  in  this  trouble.  But 
if  Miss  Letty  is  uppish  and  reserved, — as  I  fear 
she  will  be, — then  Mother  will  go  for  her !  I'm  only 
imagining  all  this ;  I've  no  idea  what  will  really  hap 
pen." 

Poor  little  Dorcas,  it  was  well  for  her  present 
peace  of  mind  that  she  hadn't ! 

The  two  walked  slowly  back  to  The  Campanile, 
almost  forgetting  the  tragedy  that  had  come  so  close 
to  them,  in  the  content  of  being  together. 

Corson  met  them  at  the  door. 

"Been  looking  for  you,"  he  said  to  Bates.  "And, 
Miss  Everett,  your  mother  is  inquiring  where  you 
are.  She  left  word  for  you  to  go  to  her  the  moment 
you  appeared." 

"Yes,"  Dorcas  returned,  and  then,  shyly,  "Please 
don't  say  I  was  with  Mr  Bates,  will  you?" 

Corson  looked  at  her,  with  interest.  Pretty 
Dorcas,  her  shy,  brown  eyes  falling  at  the  idea  of 
asking  for  secrecy,  but  her  judgment,  already 
trained  in  diplomacy,  telling  her  it  was  necessary. 

"I  won't,"  and  Corson  smiled  at  her,  "if  you'll 
[128] 


Julie  Baxter 

answer  a  question  or  two.     Where  were  you  last 
night  at  two  o'clock  ?" 

"In  bed  and  asleep,"  said  the  girl  simply. 

"Thank  goodness  you  don't  refuse  to  tell !  And  at 
what  time  did  you  retire?" 

"About  eleven." 

"And  where  had  you  spent  the  evening?" 

"Oh,  I  say,  Corson,"  and  Bates  interrupted, 
"that's  in  the  class  with  your  grilling  of  me.  You 
know  Miss  Everett  isn't  implicated,  you  know 
you're  asking  her  that  because  you've  got  the  habit. 
Run  along,  Dorcas,  you  don't  have  to  be  quizzed  any 
more." 

Dorcas  turned  quickly,  and  just  managed  to  catch 
an  up-bound  elevator  as  its  door  was  about  to  close. 

"Now,  you  let  her  alone,  Corson,"  said  Bates, 
sharply.  "I  don't  mind  telling  you  she's  the  girl  I 
intend  to  marry,  but  we're  not  really  engaged.  That 
is,  it  isn't  announced.  And  I  ask  you,  as  man  to 
man,  to  say  nothing  of  it,  to  say  nothing  to  her, 
and  to  keep  her  out  of  it  all  you  can.  Lord  knows, 
you've  no  reason  to  think  of  her  in  connection  with 
the  horrible  affair!" 

"No ;  except  as  she's  interested  in  you,  and  you're 
the  heir." 

"Forget  it.    Who  told  you  I  was  the  heir?" 

"Everybody  knows  it, — it's  in  all  the  papers." 

"I  haven't  looked  at  a  paper !  Lord,  I  don't  think 
lean!" 

"Better  not ;  they're  not  pretty  reading." 
I  129  ] 


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"What  do  you  mean  ?  Any  aspersions  against  my 
•uncle's  character?" 

"No,  not  that.  But  when  the  word  women  occurs 
in  connection  with  the  murder  of  a  rich  and  influ 
ential  man,  there's  bound  to  be  surmise, — at  least." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  so.  Well,  do  you  want  me  down 
here?  I'd  like  to  go  up  to  see  my  aunt." 

"Wait  a  minute.     Have  you  ever  thought,  Mr 
Bates,  that  the  feud  between  your  aunt  and  Mrs 
Everett  is  a  mighty  queer  affair?" 
>  -  "I've   often   thought   that,    but, — pardon   me, — 
don't  get  outside  your  own  proper  boundaries !" 

"Oh,  I'm  not.  Now,  a  queer  thing,  like  that  feud, 
has  to  be  taken  into  consideration." 

"Not  in  connection  with  the  murder  of  my  Uncle 
Binney." 

"Maybe  not  in  direct  connection,  but  as  a  side 
light.  You  know  the  feud  has  a  decided  bearing  on 
your  affair  with  Miss  Everett." 

"I  object  to  your  use  of  the  word  'affair.'  My 
friendship  with  Miss  Everett  is  in  spite  of,  even  in 
defiance  of,  the  feud  between  her  mother  and  my 
aunt.  I  make  no  secret  of  it  to  you,  but  as  I  advise 
you,  the  matter  is  confidential.  I'm  treating  you  as 
a  fellow-man,  Corson,  and  I  don't  want  you  to 
abuse  my  confidence  in  your  fellowship,  or  your — 
manliness." 

Corson  fidgeted  a  little  and  returned,  "I've  got  to 
do  my  duty,  Mr  Bates,  and  part  of  my  duty  seems 
[  130] 


Julie  Baxter 

to  me  to  be  to  tell  you  that  I'm  not  allowed  to  ob 
serve  confidences  if  they  affect  my  orders." 

"They  don't!  How  can  your  investigations  of 
this  murder  case  be  affected  by  my  friendship  for 
Miss  Everett?" 

"They  can, — in  a  way.  You  see,  I  know  a  lot 
about  this  feud  business.  I  know  how  inimical,  how 
full  of  vicious  hatred  those  two  women  are,  and 
have  been  for  years.  And  I  know  how  your  recent 
special  interest  in  Miss  Everett  has  roused  the  re 
newed  anger  of  not  only  your  aunt,  but  her 
mother " 

"Phew!    You  do  know  it  all,  don't  you?" 

"I  do.  Therefore,  I  felt  I  must  inform  you  of 
the  extent  of  my  knowledge,  so  you  and  I  can  un 
derstand  each  other.  Now,  drop  the  subject  for 
the  moment,  for  I've  other  matters  to  speak  of. 
Where  do  you  suppose  the  weapon  is  ?" 

"I've  not  the  slightest  idea!    How  could  I  have?" 

"Do  you  know  what  the  weapon  was  ?" 

"Only  what  the  doctor  said,  a  very  sharp  knife  of 
some  sort." 

"Yes ;  now  did  you  know  that  the  doctor  has  also 
said  that  the  stroke  delivered  by  that  same  sharp 
knife  was  so  well  planted,  so  skillfully  driven  home, 
that  it  implies  the  work  of  some  one  with  a  knowl 
edge  of  anatomy?" 

"A  doctor?" 

"Not  necessarily, — unless  a  woman  doctor.    But, 
what  other  idea  suggests  itself?" 
[131] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Oh,  I  don't  know.    Don't  ask  me  riddles." 

"A  nurse,  then.  Can't  you  see  the  reasonableness 
of  suspecting  a  trained  nurse,  after  Dr  Pagett's 
opinions  ?" 

"All  right;  where's  your  trained  nurse  in  Sir 
Herbert's  bright  galaxy  of  beauty?" 

"That's  a  point  to  be  looked  up.  But,  I  may  tell 
you  that  Julie  Baxter  studied  nursing  before  she 
took  up  telephone  work." 

"H'm.    Might  be  coincidence." 

"Of  course  it  might.  But  we  have  to  investigate 
coincidences.  You  don't  know  of  any  nurse  or  ex- 
nurse  in  your  uncle's  circle  of  friends?" 

"Friends  seems  to  me  an  inappropriate  word.7 

"Look  here,  Mr  Bates,  you  let  my  choice  of  words 
alone,  and  answer  my  questions." 

"All  right,  I  will.  I  don't  know  of  any  nurse  at 
all,  and  I  shouldn't  tell  you  if  I  did !" 

"Not  a  very  wise  remark  on  your  part,  Mr  Bates," 
and  Corson  looked  at  him  meaningly. 

"I  don't  care  whether  it's  wise  or  not.  You  make 
me  disgusted  with  detective  work !  Why  do  you  go 
around  sneaking  up  on  any  woman  you  can  hear  of? 
Why  don't  you  go  about  it  from  the  other  side? 
Find  a  motive  for  the  murder  and  then  find  the 
criminal  who  had  the  motive!  Don't  suspect  this 
one  because  she  studied  nursing  and  that  one  be 
cause  the  old  gentleman  kissed  her!  It  isn't  a  unique 
case,  my  uncle's  fancy  for  chorus  girls, — but  it  by 
no  means  indicates  the  result  of  murder!  Get  the 
[  132] 
1 


Julie  Baxter 

weapon,  then  find  its  owner.  Get  a  clue, — a  real, 
material  clue,  and  then  trace  the  criminal.  Get  some 
evidence, — actual,  spoken  or  circumstantial, — and 
deduce  your  facts  from  it.  For  heaven's  sake,  do 
some  real  detective  work,  and  not  just  dance  around 
questioning  any  kiddy-girl  you  happen  to  see!" 

"Your  words  are  not  without  reason,"  and  Cor- 
son  gave  Bates  a  peculiar  smile.  "Indeed,  I  had 
some  idea  of  doing  just  what  you  suggest.  But 
one  of  the  first  things  to  do  in  the  hunt  for  evidence 
is  to  find  out  where  your  uncle  was  last  night  between 
twelve  and  two.  You  see,  the  people  at  the  Mag- 
nifique  say  he  sent  the  girls  home  by  themselves  and 
then  soon  after  went  off  himself  in  the  neighborhood 
of  midnight.  Next  he's  heard  of  at  two  A.  M.  dying 
on  the  floor  of  the  onyx  lobby!  Where  was  he  in 
the  meantime?" 

"That's  truly  a  most  important  question  to  be 
answered,"  said  Richard,  very  seriously.  "On  that 
depends  far  more  than  on  the  frightened  admissions 
or  denials  of  a  lot  of  excited  young  women." 

"I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  the  detective. 


[133] 


CHAPTER  IX 
The  Library  Set 

BUT  it  proved  no  easy  matter  to  trace  the 
whereabouts  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney  between 
the  hours  of  twelve  and  two  on  the  night  he 
met  his  tragic  death. 

The  detectives  were  aware  that  he  said  a  pleasant 
good-night  to  the  chorus  girls  he  had  entertained  at 
supper,  and  had  left  the  Magnifique,  alone,  about 
midnight,  but  then  all  trace  was  lost.  Naturally 
enough,  for  peaceable  citizens  are  not  noticed  if  they 
follow  a  beaten  or  usual  path. 

Nor  could  it  be  discovered  whether  he  came  into 
the  onyx  lobby  alone,  or  accompanied  by  the  person 
or  persons  responsible  for  his  death.  The  absence 
of  the  weapon  precluded  all  thought  of  suicide, 
therefore,  he  had  been  murdered  and  the  murderer 
was  still  at  large. 

There  was  no  witness  to  his  dying  moments  but 
the  night  porter,  Bob  Moore.  His  testimony  was 
not  doubted,  for,  so  far,  no  reason  was  apparent 
for  his  having  any  ill  will  toward  the  victim  of  the 
tragedy. 

The  two  police  detectives  on  the  case  worked  well 
[134] 


The  Library  Set 

together.  Corson  was  the  more  clever  minded  of 
the  two,  and  Bates  more  energetic  and  active.  But 
they  felt  decidedly  baffled  at  the  stone  wall  they 
found  themselves  up  against. 

Sir  Herbert  had  left  the  Hotel  Magnifique,  walk 
ing.  Where  had  he  gone  or  whom  had  he  met  ?  A 
highwayman  or  thug  was  improbable,  for  such  a 
person  would  not  follow  a  victim  into  his  own  home 
before  attacking  him.  This  added  plausibility  to  the 
written  statement  incriminating  women. 

Angry  or  vindictive  women  might  accompany  him 
to  the  lobby  of  his  own  hotel,  pleading  or  threaten 
ing  in  their  own  interests  and  then,  in  their  final 
despair  at  gaining  their  point,  stab  him  and  run 
away. 

Which,  the  detectives  concluded,  was  just  what 
had  happened,  and  the  thing  now,  was  to  find  the 
women. 

In  default  of  any  other  way  to  look,  they  were 
still  investigating  the  women  employed  in  The  Cam 
panile. 

But  they  had  narrowed  their  search  down  to  a  few 
of  those.  Principally  of  interest  was  Julie  Baxter, 
the  telephone  girl, — but  more  for  the  reason  of  her 
relations  with  Moore,  than  because  of  her  own 
admissions. 

A  persistent  quizzing  of  Moore  had  proved  to  the 
detectives'  satisfaction  that  he  did  not  know  where 
Julie  was  the  night  of  the  murder,  and  that  he  was 
himself  anxiously  worried  at  her  refusal  to  tell. 
[135] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


For  the  girl  would  not  tell  even  her  fiance  where 
she  had  been.  She  persisted  in  her  story  that  she 
had  been  up  to  no  harm  but  she  was  determined  to 
keep  her  secret.  This,  in  connection  with  her  strong 
will  and  blunt  manner,  convinced  the  detectives  that, 
though  she  need  not  have  been  criminally  implicated, 
she,  at  least,  knew  definite  and  indicative  facts  about 
the  murder. 

Moore  said  he  was  in  a  quandary.  Full  of  detec 
tive  interest,  he  longed  to  work  on  the  case,  and  felt 
sure  he  could  be  of  use  to  the  police,  but  the  attitude 
of  Julie  deterred  him. 

"You  see,  she's  my  girl,"  he  said  frankly  to  Cor- 
son.  "And  she  does  act  queer !  I  don't  understand 
her,  but  I  can't  dig  into  this  thing  and  maybe  run 
up  against  something  she  doesn't  want  me  to !" 

"You  have  faith  in  her  own  innocence,  then  ?" 

"Oh,  yes, — that  is,  she  wouldn't  kill  a  man !  And 
yet, — who  can  say  that?  In  a  fit  of  anger  a  woman 
would  do  anything, — more  especially,  if  she  wasn't 
alone." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"I  mean  a  woman,  working  alone,  would  hardly 
dare  to  kill  a  man, — but,  accompanied,  maybe  egged 

on  by  another  woman,  she'd  be  daredevil  enough 
a.  » 

"Who  would?  Julie  Baxter?"  Corson  flung  the 
question  at  him. 

"Yes,"  Moore  declared,  "Julie  or  any  woman  of 
her  fierce,  intense  nature.  I  know  Julie  well,  and  I 
[136] 


The  Library  Set 

love  her,  and  I'm  going  to  see  her  through, — but  it's 
quite  in  the  picture  that  she  knows  something  about 
this  thing." 

"You're  pretty  frank  for  a  man  engaged  to " 

"That's  just  it!  I'm  going  to  save  her  from  her 
self  !  Julie  is  stubborn, — she's  positively  pig-headed, 
if  she  takes  a  notion.  Now,  if  she's  keeping  some 
thing  back, — and  she  is, — it's  to  shield  some  friend, 
or, — or  to  shield  herself ;  but  not  from  conviction  of 
crime, — rather  from  some  circumstances  that  might 
falsely  incriminate  her — or  some  one  else." 

"But  if  she  knows  who  did  this  thing " 

"Oh,  she  doesn't.  At  most,  she  only  suspects. 
But  I'll  find  out.  She's  my  girl,  and  I'm  going  to 
discover  the  truth  about  her, — and  then  about  the 
murder." 

"Oho,  you're  going  to  be  a  detective!" 
"Not  so's  you'd  notice  it.    But  I'm  going  to  do  a 
little  sleuthing  on  the  side  and  if  I  find  out  anything 
that  will  help  justice  along,  I  promise  to  tell  you, — 
let  the  chips  fall  where  they  may." 

"I  haven't  any  too  much  faith  in  Moore's  protes 
tations,"  Corson  confided  to  Gibbs.  "He's  crazy  to 
be  a  detective,  but  he's  afraid  he'll  catch  his  own  girl 
in  his  net.  That's  the  truth  in  a  nutshell.  I  do 
think,  though,  he'd  be  good  help  to  us,  for  he  knows 
all  about  this  house  and  its  occupants,  and  I  can't 
help  thinking  the  murderers  belong  here." 

"I  don't  think  so,"  returned  Gibbs.     "I'm  sure 
they  are  rank  outsiders.    They  were  with  him  during 
[137] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


those  missing  two  hours  and  they  followed  him 
home,  hoping  to  get  what  they  were  after, — black 
mail,  most  likely,  and  then  at  the  last  minute 
opportunity  presented  itself  and  they  killed  him." 

"Must  have  been  prepared  for  it,  as  they  had  a 
weapon,  used  it  deftly,  and  carried  it  off." 

"They  did  that,  and  there's  an  important  clew. 
None  of  those  little  chorus  babes  could  have  stabbed 
with  that  deft  touch,  which  the  doctor  vows  shows 
skilled  medical  or  surgical  knowledge." 

"Maybe,  and  maybe  it  was  a  chance  blow.  Well, 
I'm  going  off  on  a  new  tack.  I'm  going  up  to  see 
the  dead  man's  people  and  get,  if  I  can,  some  new 
angle  on  the  case." 

Corson  went  up  to  the  Prall  apartment  and  found 
the  members  of  that  household  in  a  high  state  of 
excitement. 

Miss  Letitia  Prall  paused  in  what  was  evidently 
an  angry  harangue  and  somewhat  grudgingly  ac 
corded  a  greeting  to  the  caller. 

"Must  you  have  an  interview  just  now,  Mr  Cor- 
son?"  she  asked,  acidly.  "I'm  sure  you  know  all  we 
can  tell  you." 

"I'm  not  sure  of  that,  Miss  Prall.  There  are,  I 
think,  some  points  yet  to  be  cleared  up." 

"The  whole  case  is  yet  to  be  cleared  up.  I  can't 
see  that  you  detectives  have  solved  any  part  of  the 
puzzle." 

"I  doubt  it  can  be  solved  in  parts.  I  think  we 
[138] 


The  Library  Set 

must  ferret  about  here  and  there  and  at  last  we  will 
strike  the  truth  all  at  once." 

"Well,  can't  you  go  and  strike  it  somewhere  else  ?" 
spoke  up  the  pert  voice  of  Eliza  Gurney.  "We  have 
much  to  attend  to,  with  funeral  arrangements  and 
business  matters." 

"As  to  business  matters,  you  are  sole  heir,  I  un 
derstand,  Mr  Bates  ?" 

"Yes,  I  am  so  informed  by  the  lawyer  who  has  my 
uncle's  will  in  his  keeping,"  answered  Richard,  with 
an  air  of  cold  politeness. 

"And  you  will  take  up  the  Bun  business  ?" 

"He  will  not,"  Miss  Prall  replied  for  him.  "He 
will  devote  himself  to  his  great  work  of  inventing — 
Mr  Bates  is  a  genius  and  now  he  will  have  the 
means  and  the  opportunity  to  carry  on  his  life 
work." 

"Just  so.    And  you  will  be  getting  married?" 

"Of  course  he  will,"  Miss  Prall  still  gave  the  re 
sponses;  "not  at  present,  of  course,  but  as  soon  as 
he  finds  the  right  young  lady " 

"He  won't  have  to  look  far  afield  for  that !" 

"Leave  me  out  of  the  conversation,"  Richard 
growled.  "These  private  affairs  of  mine  in  no  way 
affect  your  detective  work." 

"But,  you  must  pardon  me  if  I  seem  intrusive, 
I  am  assuming  that  we  are  at  one  in  this  matter 
of  investigation?"  Corson  spoke  sharply. 

"Of  course,"  agreed  Bates. 
[  139] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Then  I  must  ask  if  you  are  engaged, to  Miss 
Everett." 

"He  is  not!"  Miss  Prall  almost  shrieked  the 
words.  "He  is  not  and  never  will  be.  The  death 
of  his  uncle,  deplorable  as  are  the  circumstances, 
leaves  Mr  Bates  free  to  pursue  his  occupation  with 
all  his  time  and  attention.  He  will  not  think  of  other 
matters  for  a  year  at  least,  and  then  the  lady  in 
the  case  will  not  be  Miss  Everett !" 

The  Grenadier  sat  stiffly  upright,  and  her  black 
beady  eyes  darted  from  her  nephew's  face  to  that 
of  the  detective  as  if  challenging  contradiction  from 
either  of  them. 

Bates  replied  only  by  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  but 
Corson  said,  "I  assume  then,  Miss  Prall,  that  out 
side  the  natural  shock  of  the  tragedy  you  feel  a  cer 
tain  relief  that  your  nephew  is  now  the  heir  to  great 
wealth  and  can  pursue  his  career  ?  But  I  understand 
his  uncle  wished  him  to  associate  himself  with  the 
Bun  business." 

"Quite  so,"  Letitia  snapped.  "The  late  Sir 
Herbert  was  deeply  interested  in  my  nephew,  but  he 
did  not  understand  or  appreciate  his  achievements 
and  possibilities  in  his  own  chosen  line.  Wherefore, 
I  am  rejoiced  that  now  my  nephew  can  proceed 
unhindered." 

"But,  I  believe  the  late  Sir  Herbert  favored  the 
match  between  Mr  Bates  and  Miss  Everett?" 

"Drop  that !"  Richard  blazed  forth.     "Leave  that 
lady's  name  out  of  this  conversation!" 
[  140] 


The  Library  Set 


"Yes,  indeed!"  Letitia  cried;  "I  forbid  the  men 
tion  of  the  name  of  Everett  in  my  presence!" 

"Yet  it  may  be  necessary,"  Corson  went  on, 
calmly.  "You  know,  Miss  Prall,  the  ends  of  justice 
may  call  for  the  mention  of  a  name " 

"What  in  the  world  can  the  mention  of  that  name 
have  to  do  with  justice?"  Eliza  broke  in.  "You 
don't  connect  the  Everetts  with  the  murder,  do  you  ?" 

"I  don't  connect  any  one  with  the  murder,  as  yet," 
Corson  replied,  "but  it  is  my  great  desire  to  find 
some  connection,  and  so  I  have  to  make  inquiries." 

"If  that's  your  motive,  I  still  must  request  that 
you  omit  the  name  of  Everett  from  your  conversa 
tion,"  said  Bates.  "Look  here,  Corson,  are  you 
getting  anywhere,  or  aren't  you?" 

"I  am,"  was  the  quiet  reply;  "now,  Miss  Prall, 
you'll  be  obliged  to  answer  a  few  questions,  whether 
you  like  it  or  not." 

Corson' s  tone,  though  courteous,  was  severe,  and 
the  Grenadier,  while  not  frightened,  gave  him  a  look 
of  curiosity  and  intense  interest. 

"Go  on,"  she  said,  briefly. 

"This  feud  between  yourself  and  Mrs  Everett  is 
a  matter  of  long  standing,  I  believe.  You  can't, 
therefore,  object  to  my  reference  to  it.  What  was 
its  cause?" 

"Oh,  it's  so  old  now,  that  its  cause  is  sunk  in 
oblivion."    Letitia  smiled  sourly.     "But  it  has  been 
added  to  by  other  causes  as  time  went  on,  and  thus 
new  fuel  has  kept  the  fire  burning." 
[141] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Keep  the  home  fires  burning,"  said  Richard,  with 
a  mocking  smile  at  his  aunt,  who  heeded  it  not. 

"And  so,"  she  went  on,  "the  feud,  as  it  has  come 
to  be  called,  is  as  strong  and  well-nourished  as 
ever." 

"Yet  you  two  ladies  elect  to  live  under  the  same 
roof." 

"To  nurse  the  feud  along,"  Bates  asserted,  and 
the  Grenadier  nodded  assent. 

"However,"  she  added,  "Mrs  Everett  is  about  to 
move  away." 

"What!"  cried  Richard. 

"Yes,"  repeated  his  aunt,  evidently  pleased  with 
the  fact,  "she  is  going  soon." 

"Thus,"  offered  Corson,  "you  will  be  relieved  of 
two  undesirable  people  at  once." 

"Meaning  Mrs  Everett  and  her  daughter?" 
queried  Eliza. 

"Not  at  all.  Meaning  Mrs  Everett  and  Sir 
Herbert  Binney." 

"Oh!"  gasped  Miss  Prall.  "Don't  put  it  that 
way!" 

"Why  not?  Since  it's  the  truth.  You  now  can 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  nephew  pur 
sue " 

"Don't  talk  about  me  as  if  I  weren't  here!"  ex 
claimed  Richard.  "Or  as  if  I  were  a  minor  or  an 
incompetent !  I'm  devoted  to  my  aunt;  I  love,  honor 
and  obey  her,  but  I'm  a  man  with  a  mind  of  my  own. 
And  when  it  runs  counter  to  the  desires  or  plans  of 
[142] 


The  Library  Set 


my  aunt — well,  we  must  fight  it  out  between  our 
selves.  However,  Mr  Corson,  I  can't  see  that  the 
affairs  of  my  aunt  and  myself,  or  the  affairs  of  my 
aunt  and  her  fellow-feudist,  Mrs  Everett,  have  any 
connection  with  or  bearing  on  the  murder  of  Sir 
Herbert  Binney.  If  they  seem  to  you  to  have  such 
a  bearing,  I  think  it  is  right  that  you  should  tell  us 
all  about  it." 

"I  take  it,  then,  that  we  are  working  in  unison, — 
at  least,  in  concord  ?" 

"You  may  certainly  assume  that  as  far  as  I  am 
concerned,"  said  Bates,  but  the  two  women  present 
seemed  by  their  silence  to  reserve  judgment. 

"First,  Miss  Prall,  I'd  like  to  hear  from  you  what 
plans  Sir  Herbert  had,  so  far  as  you  know,  regard 
ing  the  sale  of  his  great  bakery  business." 

"I  know  a  great  deal  about  that,  Mr  Corson,  as 
Sir  Herbert  not  only  discussed  the  matter  with  me, 
but  did  me  the  honor  to  ask  my  advice,  considering 
that  my  judgment  was  of  value." 

"No  doubt.    And  you  advised  him?" 

"I  advised  him  to  sell  out  to  Crippen, — of  Crip- 
pen's  Cakes.  You  know  of  the  firm  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed;  who  doesn't?  It's  the  largest  of  its 
sort  in  the  country." 

"Unless  one  excepts  the  Vail  Bakery.  But  that's 
bread." 

"And  aren't  buns  bread?" 

"That  was  part  of  the  controversy.  However,  Sir 
Herbert  and  Mr  Vail  had  their  bout  before  the  mat- 
[143] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


ter  was  taken  up  by  the  Crippen  people.  Mr  Vail 
didn't  see  his  way  clear  to  combine  his  bread  with 
Sir  Herbert's  buns.  But  Mr  Crippen  thought  the 
buns  would  go  well  with  his  cake  business,  and  they 
were  on  the  point  of  coming  to  an  agreement  in  the 
matter.  Indeed,  Sir  Herbert  told  me  he  expected  to 
see  Mr  Crippen  last  evening " 

"He  didn't.  I've  interviewed  Mr  Crippen  and  he 
told  me  so." 

"Might  they  not  have  met  after  the  Magnifique 
supper  ?" 

"What!"  Corson  looked  at  Miss  Prall  in  sur 
prise.  "You  mean " 

"Oh,  nothing, — nothing  connected  with  the — the 
tragedy,  of  course.  But  perhaps  the  interview  did 
occur,  and  for  some  reason  Mr  Crippen  doesn't 
want  it  known — can't  you  see,  Mr  Corson,  that  it's 
a  queer  thing  that  nobody  comes  forward  to  tell 
where  Sir  Herbert  was  those  last  two  hours  of  his 
life?  Well,  mightn't  he  have  been  with  Mr  Crip 
pen, — remember,  he  told  me  he  expected  to  see  him, 
— and  whatever  their  conference  resulted  in,  might 
not  Mr  Crippen  have  wished  it  kept  quiet " 

"And  so,  denied  it?  Why,  it  might  be  so,  Miss 
Prall, — but  in  such  a  serious  case  Mr  Crippen  would 
hesitate  before  he  would  be  anything  but  sincere  in 
his  story.  It's  a  risky  matter  to  falsify  when  a 
murder  case  is  being  investigated!" 

"I  know  it,"  and  Miss  Prall  smoothed  the  folds 
[  144] 


The  Library  Set 

of  her  gown  placidly.  "But,  you  see,  I  know  Mr 
Crippen." 

"Oh,  come  now,  Auntie,"  broke  in  Richard,  "just 
because  Crip  was  an  old  beau  of  yours,  don't  say 
things  against  him." 

"I'm  not  saying  anything  against  him,  Ricky,  I 
only  say  I  know  him.  If  that's  a  damaging  admis 
sion,  it's  his  fault,  not  mine." 

The  Grenadier  set  her  lips  in  a  straight  line,  and 
looked  sternly  at  Corson.  "You  can  draw  any  de 
ductions  you  wish,  Mr  Corson,"  she  went  on,  acidly, 
but  positively;  "I  tell  you  that  I  know  Mr  Crippen 
very  well,  and  I  wouldn't  believe  a  word  he  says, 
unless  I  had  the  corroboration  of  another." 

"Be  careful,  Letitia,"  warned  Miss  Gurney. 

"You  shut  up,  Eliza !    I'll  say  what  I  choose." 

"Do,  Miss  Prall,"  urged  Corson.  "You're  de 
cidedly  interesting.  May  I  be  forgiven  if  I  look 
about  a  little.  What  unusual  curios  and  treasures 
you  possess." 

"I  do ;  but  this  is  no  time  to  examine  or  comment 
on  those.  If  you  have  questioned  me  all  you  wish, 
— though,  for  my  part,  I  don't  think  you've  ques 
tioned  me  at  all, — suppose  we  consider  this  interview 
at  an  end." 

"Why,  Aunt  Letitia,  have  you  no  wish  to  find  out 
who  killed  Uncle  Herbert  ?"  asked  Richard. 

"I  can't  say  that  I  have.  He's  dead;  no  punish 
ment  of  his  murderer  can  bring  him  back.  He  was 
no  relative  of  mine,  nor  was  he  such  a  friend  that 
[145] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


I'm  thirsting  to  avenge  his  life.  For  my  part,  I 
only  want  to  have  the  matter  hushed  up.  The  un 
avoidable  publicity  and  notoriety  are  most  distress- 
ing!" 

"I  haven't  questioned  you  much,  I  admit,  Miss 
Prall,"  observed  the  detective,  "but  I  have  found  out 
a  great  deal  since  I  have  been  here." 

"Yes?"  she  returned,  coolly,  with  a  haughty  nod. 

"Yes;  are  you  interested  to  know  what  I  have 
learned  ?" 

"I  am  not.  It  is  all  beneath  my  notice.  I  assume 
you  will  use  your  information  in  any  way  you  see 
fit — but  the  way,  nor  the  result,  interests  me  not  at 
all." 

"Don't  talk  like  that,  Letitia,"  and  Eliza  looked 
deeply  concerned.  "Mr  Corson  will  think  you  a 
hard-hearted  woman." 

"He  has  my  permission  to  do  so." 

"Oh,  stop,  Auntie !"  Bates  cried,  earnestly.  "You 
get  yourself  misunderstood  by  such  talk.  You're 
not  hard-hearted, — except  regarding  your  foolish 
feud.  In  all  other  ways  you're  normally  kind  and 
generous  minded." 

"Thank  you,  Rick,  but  I  don't  care  for  compli 
ments." 

Corson  was  fingering  some  library  appointments 
on  the  large  table  near  which  he  sat. 

"These  brass  sets  are  convenient  things,"  he  re 
marked,  referring  to  an  elaborate  array  of  fittings 
.spread  out  on  the  large  green  blotting  pad.  "These 
[146] 


The  Library  Set 

long  clipping  shears  are  most  useful,  and  the  pen 
holder,  letter  opener  and  ink  eraser,  all  to  match,  are 
of  admirable  workmanship." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Prall,  carelessly,  "I  had  the  set 
made  to  order.  It  is,  I  think,  unique." 

"Why  are  you  interested  in  them?"  Miss  Gurney 
said,  abruptly. 

"Oh,"  Corson  returned,  easily,  "I  love  desk  fit 
tings.  They  always  have  a  peculiar  fascination  for 
me.  I  have  several  sets  myself,  but  none  so  fine  or 
costly  as  these." 

"Why  don't  you  stick  to  your  subject,  Corson?" 
said  Bates,  a  little  impatiently.  "Are  you  and  Gibbs 
going  to  make  a  success  of  this  case  or  not?  And 
I  wish  you'd  let  me  know  all  you've  done.  You  have 
a  frank  air  about  your  disclosures,  but  I  can't  help 
thinking  you're  sounding  us." 

"Sounding  you?"  and  Corson  looked  mystified. 

"Yes;  as  if  you  suspected  us  of  knowing  more 
than  we've  told.  I  assure  you  /  don't." 

"No,  I  never  dreamed  that  you  did.  You've  been 
most  outspoken,  Mr  Bates,  and,  while  I  can't  plume 
myself  much  as  yet  on  my  findings  or  those  of  Mr 
Gibbs,  you  must  remember  that  the  matter  is  not 
many  days  old,  and  it  is  not  what  is  called  an  'open 
and  shut'  case." 

"No;  and  yet,  it  ought  to  be.  For  a  man  who 
does  not  belong  to  this  country  to  come  over  here 
and  be  killed,  seems  to  imply  not  such  a  very  large 
number  of  possible  suspects." 

[147] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"As  to  that,"  and  Corson  sighed,  "I  don't  know 
of  even  one  possible  suspect.  I  wish  I  did, — it 
might  lead  to  others.  But  we  have  the  assurance 
that  the  deed  was  done  by  women ;  that  simplifies  the 
search." 

"Yes  and  no,  to  that,"  spoke  up  Miss  Prall.  "Sir 
Herbert,  of  course,  wrote  that  in  good  faith,  but 
may  he  not  have  meant  by  the  influence  of  women, 
or  at  the  orders  or  desire  of  women, — and  not, 
necessarily,  that  women  committed  the  actual  deed?" 

"Granting  all  that,"  returned  Corson,  "it  is  the 
women  we  want.  If  they  hired  gunmen, — as  they 
may  be  called, — we  must  find  out  the  identity  of  the 
women  all  the  same.  And  if  they  actually  committed 
the  deed " 

The  ringing  of  the  telephone  interrupted  his 
speech  and  proved  to  be  a  message  for  the  detective 
to  come  downstairs  at  once. 

Corson  went  and  on  reaching  the  ground  floor  he 
was  met  by  Gibbs,  who  took  him  to  a  small  reception 
room  and  closed  the  door. 

"Here  you  are,"  Gibbs  said,  and  handed  the  other 
a  paper-wrapped  parcel  which  when  opened  proved 
to  contain  a  long  sharp  paper-cutter.  The  blade, 
apparently  hastily  wiped,  still  showed  traces  of  what 
was  unmistakably  blood. 

"Where'd  it  come  from  ?"  Corson  said,  staring  at 
the  thing. 

"A  boy  connected  with  the  service  department 
found  it  stuck  between  the  palings  of  a  fence  near 
[148] 


The  Library  Set 

the  delivery  entrance.  It  may  have  been  placed  there 
by  the  murderer  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney." 

"Where  is  this  entrance  ?  Why  wasn't  this  found 
sooner?" 

"The  place  is  around  the  corner, — a  sort  of  ob 
scure  entrance  on  the  side  street,  used  only  by  the 
tradesmen,  for  delivery.  A  cleaner  found  this  just 
a  short  time  ago." 

"Well,"  said  Corson,  very  gravely,  "this  is  the 
paper-cutter  belonging  to  a  set  of  writing  implements 
on  Miss  Frail's  library  table;  and  I  have  just  come 
from  there,  and  I  noticed  that,  though  the  sheath  of 
this  was  up  there,  the  paper-cutter  was  missing  1" 


CHAPTER  X 
Seek  the  Women 

LATE  that  night, — in  fact  it  was  about  mid 
night,  when  the  onyx  lobby  was  practically 
deserted  save  for  an  occasional  late  home- 
comer, — the  two  detectives  arrived  for  a  confab  with 
Bob  Moore. 

This  greatly  pleased  the  night  porter  for  he  hoped 
to  be  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  assistant  detective, 
and  felt  sure  he  could  be  of  valuable  help. 

"You  know,  Moore,"  Gibbs  began,  "there  are 
people  who  are  looking  askance  at  you,  with  a  sort 
of  half-formed  suspicion  that  you  know  more  about 
this  thing  than  you  have  told.  But  I  don't  think 
that, — at  least,  I  think  you  are  willing  to  tell  all  you 
know,  if  you  haven't  already  done  so.  How  about 
it?" 

"Why,  it's  this  way,  Mr  Gibbs.  I  am  ready  to 
tell  all  I  know,  and  I  think  I  have  done  so,  but  you 
can't  expect  me  to  tell  what  I  suspect  or  surmise  or 
imagine.  Can  you,  now?  It  might  lose  my  place 
for  me.  Also,  I  might  injure  an  innocent  person." 

"I  think,"  spoke  up  Corson,  "you  ought  to  tell  us 
anything  you  suspect;  it  need  go  no  further  and  if 
[ISO] 


Seek  the  Women 


your  suspicions  are  mistaken  ones,  they  can't  harm 
the  innocent." 

"Well,  then,  I've  got  my  eye  on  two  of  the 
chambermaids.  They  are  great  chums,  and  one  is  on 
the  seventh  and  eighth  floors,  the  other  on  the  ninth 
and  tenth.  But  floors  don't  matter;  they  chum 
around  with  each  other.  Well,  these  two  are  the 
most  canny  old  hens  you  ever  knew.  They're  no 
chickens,  and  they  have  an  eye  out  for  the  main 
chance  all  the  time.  I  mean  they  toady  to  the  people 
who  are  rich  or  generous  and  they  scamp  their  work 
in  places  where  they're  not  'remembered.'  Also 
they're  specially  attentive  to  the  work  of  gentlemen 
wrho  live  alone.  Why,  Sir  Herbert's  rooms  were 
kept  as  neat  as  a  bandbox.  And  Mr  Goodwin  and 
Mr  Vail, — they're  both  up  on  the  tenth, — their 
rooms  are  immaculate.  And  yet,  there's  the  Prall 
place  neglected,  'cause  Miss  Prall  don't  believe  much 
in  fees,  and  as  for  the  Everetts,  why,  she  says  she 
can't  get  anything  tended  to!" 

"Doesn't  she  'remember'  the  housemaid,  either?" 
"Some ;  but  in  her  case,  it's  more  her  sharp  tongue 
and  her  fussy  ways.  Miss  Prall,  now,  she's  on  the 
outs  with  Mrs  Everett, — I  know  that, — but  she's 
decent-spoken  to  the  maids.  Only,  she's  stingy. 
Well,  what  I'm  getting  at  is,  those  two  chamber 
maids  are  regular  devils,  if  you  ask  me,  and  though 
Sir  Herbert  Binney  was  generous  enough  when  he 
liked  the  work  people,  he  didn't  like  his  chamber 
maid,  and  he  was  as  ugly  as  Cain  to  her.  Used  to 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


call  her  down  for  the  least  thing  and  laid  her  out 
cold  if  she  sauced  him  back." 

"Then  you  think  the  'women'  might  have  referred 
to  these  two  maids?" 

"That's  just  it.  I  only  think  it  may  have  done  so. 
I've  no  evidence  except  that  they  are  more  the  type 
of  women  it  seems  possible  to  suspect.  These  little 
girls, — it  don't  seem  's  if  they  could  manage  the 
deed.  But  Jane  and  Maggie  could  have  worked  it 
if  they'd  wanted  to.  They're  big,  husky  women  and 
they've  dogged,  sullen  tempers.  And,  of  course, 
what  made  me  think  most  about  it,  was  your  finding 
that  paper-knife  of  Miss  Frail's.  Now,  if  Miss  Prall 
had  killed  Binney, — which  is  ridiculous  on  the  face 
of  it! — she'd  been  too  cute  to  leave  the  knife  around, 
but  those  ignorant  chambermaids " 

"I  don't  agree,"  Corson  interrupted.  "The 
woman, — which  one  is  the  Frail's  chambermaid?" 

"Maggie." 

"Well,  Maggie  then, — she  couldn't  have  taken  the 
knife  from  Miss  Frail's  table  without  its  being 
missed,  and  Miss  Letitia  is  not  the  one  to  lose  her 
property  without  a  word!  No,  sir,  that  paper- 
knife  points  straight  to  Letitia  Prall.  Moreover, 
she  had  motive;  she  wanted  the  old  gentleman  out 
of  the  way  for  two  reasons.  First,  so  Pet  Nephew 
could  inherit  the  old  man's  money,  and,  second,  be 
cause  the  uncle  was  in  favor  of  the  marriage  of 
young  Bates  with  Miss  Everett,  the  daughter  of  Miss 
Frail's  deadly  enemy !" 

[152] 


Seek  the  Women 


"Where'd  you  get  all  that  dope,  Corson?"  Gibbs 
said  in  astonishment. 

'Tartly  by  quizzing  round  and  partly  by  putting 
two  and  two  together.  Anyway,  it's  all  true,  the 
motives,  I  mean.  Now,  confidentially,  just  among 
us  three  here,  could  she  have  done  it  ?  I  mean,  was 
it  physically  possible?" 

"Anything  is  possible  for  Miss  Prall,"  said 
Moore,  quite  seriously.  "She  is  a  Tartar,  that  lady 
is.  And  whatever  she  sets  out  to  do,  she  does, — 
irrespective  of  whether  it  can  be  done  or  not !" 

"I  mean  this.  Could  she  have  come  downstairs 
from  the  eighth  floor  without  being  seen " 

"Of  course  she  must  have  been  seen,"  broke  in 
Moore.  "Whether  she  came  down  in  the  elevator  or 
walked  down  the  stairs  she  must  have  been  seen. 
She  could  have  come  down  the  servants'  stairs,  but 
that  would  have  been  even  more  conspicuous." 

"At  two  in  the  morning?" 

"No;  there'd  probably  be  no  servants  around 
then."  . 

"So  she  could  have  done  that,  and  waited,  say, 
outside, " 

"Oh,  nonsense!  Waited  out  in  the  street  at  that 
hour?"  Gibbs  demurred;  "that's  too  much  to  swal 
low!" 

"But  she  may  have  known  just  about  the  hour  Sir 

Binney  expected  to  return.     Anyway,  suppose  she 

did  do  that,  and  then,  having  succeeded,  she  slipped 

back  to  the  servants'  entrance  and  hid  the  knife 

[I53l 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


where  it  was  found  and  then  scuttled  back  upstairs 
the  way  she  came." 

"But  the  paper  said,  'women/  "  mused  Moore. 

"That  companion  person  was  with  her,"  declared 
Corson,  triumphantly.  "Those  two  are  great  in 
team-work.  Miss  Gurney  doubtless  acted  as  scout 
and  kept  a  lookout  and  Miss  Prall  did  the  deed." 

"Oh,  Mr  Corson,  I  can't  think  it!"  exclaimed 
Moore. 

"Because  you  know  Miss  Prall  only  as  a  tenant 
of  this  house.  You  know  nothing  of  what  she  may 
be  capable  of  when  her  spirit  is  fired.  And  as  far 
as  I'm  concerned,  it's  far  easier  to  believe  that  she 
did  it,  than  that  it  was  the  work  of  some  foolish 
little  girls  scarcely  out  of  their  teens!  Miss  Prall 
is  not  only  a  strong-minded  woman,  and  a  strong- 
muscled  woman,  but  she  has  a  strong  personality 
with  practically  illimitable  powers  of  loving  and 
hating.  For  her  the  sun  rises  and  sets  in  young 
Bates,  and  in  the  other  direction  she  is  all  wrapped 
up  in  her  hatred  of  Mrs  Everett. 

"What's  Mrs  Everett  got  to  do  with  the  murder?" 
growled  Moore. 

"Nothing,  that  I  know  of,  but  she  works  in  this 
way.  Her  daughter  is  in  love  with  Richard  Bates, 
and  neither  of  the  women  will  stand  for  the  mar 
riage  of  the  two  young  people.  Why,  I  think  Mrs 
Everett  and  Miss  Prall  would  see  their  young 
charges  dead  rather  than  married  to  one  another. 
Now,  Sir  Herbert  Binney  favored  the  match. 
[154] 


Therefore  Miss  Prall  wanted  him  out  of  the  way. 
Again,  he  favored  young  Bates  going  into  the  Bun 
business  instead  of  sticking  to  his  inventions. 
Therefore,  again,  Miss  Prall  wanted  Binney  out  of 
the  way.  So,  what  would  a  woman  of  her  caliber 
and  her  determination  do,  but  put  him  out  of  the 
way?" 

"Plausible  enough,"  and  Gibbs  thought  deeply. 

"And  so,  I'm  asking  Moore,"  Corson  went  on, 
"how  he  thinks  Miss  Prall  could  have  compassed 
her  awful  plan  and  he's  solved  any  uncertainty  by 
suggesting  the  servants'  staircase  at  an  hour  so  late 
that  it  was  almost  certain  to  be  unused." 

"I  don't  say  I  believe  she  did  do  it,"  Moore  be 
gan,  "but  I  have  to  say  she  could  have  done  it  that 
way.  She  must  have  known  just  about  the  time 
he'd  come  home " 

"That's  not  difficult  to  assume,"  Corson  de 
fended  his  theory,  "he  probably  told  her  that.  And 
she  could  have  waited  around  some  time, — it  was 
a  mild  night." 

"But  how  could  she  be  sure  she'd  have  the  chance 
in  the  lobby?"  asked  Gibbs,  his  incredulity  fast 
dwindling. 

"Oh,  she  wasn't  sure.  She  took  a  chance.  I 
mean,  she  may  have  waylaid  him  outside,  don't  you 
see,  and  kept  him  there  talking  until  she  saw  Moore 
go  up  in  the  elevator  with  somebody.  This  place 
is  so  brightly  lighted  that  any  one  outside  could  see 
that.  Or  they  could  have  been  inside,  standing  in 
[155] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


the  shadow  of  the  big  pillars  for  a  long  time, — 
unnoticed." 

"Have  you  any  clews?"  asked  Bob  Moore  of  the 
detectives. 

"Dropped  handkerchiefs  and  such  like?"  asked 
Gibbs,  mockingly.  "No;  and  if  there  were  foot 
prints,  they're  washed  away  now.  But  those  things 
are  only  for  story-books, — such  as  you're  eternally 
reading,  Moore." 

"I  do  read  a  lot  of  'em,  and  it's  astonishing,  but 
most  always  a  criminal  leaves  some  trace." 

"In  the  stories, — yes.  In  real  life,  they're  not  so 
obliging.  But  let's  look  at  the  spot.  We  might  get 
an  idea, — if  nothing  more  tangible." 

The  three  went  along  the  lobby  till  they  reached 
the  place  where  Sir  Herbert  had  breathed  his  last. 
Marks  had  been  drawn  to  indicate  the  blood  spots 
that  were  so  quickly  washed  off,  and  these  still 
showed  clearly.  The  body  had  been  found  crumpled 
on  the  floor,  in  the  angle  made  by  the  great  square 
base  of  an  onyx  pillar  and  the  wall. 

They  saw,  of  course,  no  traces  of  any  personality, 
but  as  they  looked  each  began  to  reconstruct  the 
scene  mentally. 

"I  think  they  were  concealed  here  for  some  time," 
Corson  said.  "If  they  stood  here  talking,  the  pillar 
would  partly  shield  them  from  view  of  others  en 
tering.  Nor  could  they  be  easily  seen  by  Moore,  in 
the  back  of  the  lobby." 

"Maybe,"  Moore  agreed  hesitantly,  "but  if  Miss 
[156] 


Seek  the  Women 


Prall  and  Sir  Herbert  had  come  in  together  I  bet 
I'd  seen  'em." 

"Not  if  you  were  up  in  the  elevator,"  said  Cor- 
son. 

"No;  of  course  not.  That  might  have  been  the 
case." 

"And  then,  when  you  took  Mr  Vail  up,  was  no 
doubt  the  moment  she  chose  to  stab  him, — and  im 
mediately  pulled  out  the  knife  and  ran  away." 

"We  know,"  said  Moore,  positively,  "that  who 
ever  did  it,  did  it  while  I  took  Mr  Vail  up,  and  that 
the  murderer  then  pulled  out  the  knife  and  ran 
away.  But  that's  not  saying  it  was  Miss  Prall.  And 
I've  got  to  have  some  sort  of  evidence  before  I'll 
believe  it  was.  Her  desire  to  be  rid  of  Sir  Herbert 
isn't  enough,  to  my  mind,  to  indicate  that  she  killed 
him.  Can  you  tie  it  onto  her  any  more  definitely  ?" 

"Her  ownership  of  the  knife,  and  her  making  no 
effort  to  find  it,  though  missing,  are  evidence  enough 
for  me,"  said  Corson  doggedly.  "And,  how'd  those 
little  chorus  chickens  get  it,  if  they're  the  ones?" 

"I  don't  think  they're  the  ones,"  Moore  declared ; 
"but  I  do  think  it  was  those  two  chambermaids. 
They  could  get  the  knife  from  the  Prall  apartment 
easy  enough,  and  maybe  Miss  Prall  did  question 
Maggie  about  the  missing  knife  and  maybe  Maggie 
gave  a  plausible  explanation  for  its  disappearance." 

"Maybe  and  maybe  and  maybe  not!"  observed 
Gibbs,  cryptically.  "This  sort  of  talk  gets  us  no 
where — — " 

[157] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Yes  it  does,"  Corson  interrupted.  "It's  shown 
us  how  Miss  Frail  could  have  done  it.  And  when 
you  remember  that  Sir  Herbert  declared  with  his 
dying  heartbeats  that  women  did  it,  and  when  we 
have  no  other  women  with  half  as  much  motive, — 
those  little  girls'  jealousies  are  puerile  by  compari 
son, — I  think  we  are  bound  to  conclude  we're  on 
the  right  track." 

"If  so,  let's  forge  ahead,"  and  Gibbs  nodded  ener 
getically.  "What's  the  next  move?" 

"Don't  move  too   fast,"   advised  his  colleague. 
"And,  too,  we  want  to  interview  those  chamber 
maids.     Though  I  think  Miss  Prall  is  at  the  back, 
of  the  thing,  she  may  have  been  aided  by  those 
women.    They  might  have  been  paid " 

"Now,  look  here,"  put  in  Moore.  "I  know  Miss 
Prall  better  than  you  two  do.  And  I  know  if  she 
undertook  a  thing  of  this  desperate  nature,  she 
never  called  in  any  outside  help.  She'd  be  afraid 
to  trust  those  women.  And  that  companion  of  hers 
is  all  the  help  she'd  want.  No,  sir,  if  the  women 
Sir  Binney  recognized  were  Miss  Prall  and  Miss 
Gurney,  that's  all  there  was  of  them.  Likewise,  if 
it  was  those  two  chambermaids,  that's  all  there  was 
of  them.  But  they  never  combined  forces;  no,  sir, 
they  didn't!" 

"I  believe  that."  Gibbs  nodded  his  head.  "Now, 
let's  take  a  look  at  this  paper  again." 

The  paper  left  by  the  dying  man  had  been  care- 
[158] 


Seek  the  Women 


fully  placed  between  two  small  panes  of  glass,  in 
order  to  keep  it  intact  and  undefaced. 

As  Gibbs  studied  the  passe-partout,  he  said, 
thoughtfully,  "We  must  make  up  our  minds  what 
he  meant  in  this  second  line.  It's  unintelligible,  but 
what  coidd  he  have  meant  ?  'Get  bo ' ': 

"I  think  it  means  get  both,"  said  Corson,  posi 
tively;  "but  it  mayn't  be  that  at  all.  As  it  was  the 
very  last  effort  of  his  spent  muscles,  it  is  far  from 
likely  that  he  wrote  just  what  he  meant  to  write.  He 
might  have  intended  that  second  letter  for  a  or  o 
or  g  or,  in  fact,  almost  any  letter!  He  lost  control 
of  his  fingers  and  the  pencil  fell  away  from  them." 

"All  right;  I  grant  you  all  that,"  Gibbs  agreed. 
"But  we've  got  to  start  somewhere.  Now  we  know 
women  killed  him ;  he  states  that.  Next,  if  this  word 
is  both,  we  know  there  were  two  women  and  two 
only." 

"Marvelous,  Holmes,  marvelous!"  guyed  Corson. 
"And  Miss  Prall  and  Miss  Gurney  count  up  just 
two!  Correct,  so  far." 

"Don't  be  funny.  The  chambermaids  in  question 
number  two  also.  And  there  were  most  likely  only 
two,  for  women  don't  go  round  murdering  in 
squads.  But  the  point  is,  he  says,  get  both, — if 
the  word  is  both.  That  would  seem  to  imply  that 
one  is  more  probable  as  a  suspect  than  the  other, 
but  he  adjures  us  to  get  the  other  one  also." 

"There's  something  to  that,  Mr  Gibbs,"  and  Bob 
Moore  looked  at  the  detective  admiringly.  "Now, 
[159] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


if  it  was  a  case  of  Miss  Prall  and  Miss  Gurney, 
they're  so  much  together,  that  such  a  message  would 
be  practically  unnecessary.  So  it  may  point  to  the 
chambermaids.  You  see,  Maggie  is  on  his  floor,  but 
he  may  have  meant  that  Jane,  too,  was  implicated." 

"Oh,  rubbish!"  cried  Corson.  "A  dying  man 
isn't  going  to  use  his  last  gasp  to  tell  the  police  to 
get  a  certain  chambermaid !  That  word  isn't  'both' 
at  all.  It's  something  far  more  significant.  I  think 
it's  a  name.  I  think  it's  a  name  that  begins  with 
Ba  or  Bo.  Now,  I'm  as  well  aware  as  you  two  men 
are,  that  my  own  name  begins  with  Bo  and  my  girl's 
last  name  with  Ba.  But  I'm  not  afraid,  for  I  didn't 
do  it.  I  was  upstairs  at  the  time,  and  anyway  I'd 
no  grudge  against  the  old  fellow.  Nor  did  Julie 
do  it.  And  he  never  would  have  called  her  Baxter, 
if  she  had!  So,  I  say  that  I  think  it  represents  some 
name,  and  all  possible  names  ought  to  be  investi 
gated." 

"The  trouble  is  it  might  represent  so  many 
names,"  Gibbs  said.  "I  think  myself  that  he  might 
have  meant  to  make  a  capital  letter  and  only  achieved 
a  small  one,  but  never  mind  that.  Ba  could  be  Babe 
Russell, — but  I  can't  seem  to  think  he'd  take  that 
method  of  accusation.  If  it  had  been  a  man  who 
killed  him  he  would  be  more  likely  to  feel  revenge 
ful." 

"Good  heavens,  Gibbs !"  and  Corson's  eyes  opened 
wide;  "I  guess  if  you'd  just  been  fatally  stabbed 
by  your  lady  friends,  and  had  enough  spunk  to  tell 
[160] 


that  women  killed  you,  you  wouldn't  hesitate  at 
bringing  a  name  into  the  limelight !  I've  had  a  hunch 
it  was  that  Baby  Doll  all  along, — but  it  looked  like 
an  impossibility." 

"So  you  see,"  offered  Bob  Moore,  "you  can't 
deduce  much  from  that  second  line.  And  we  may 
be  'way  off.  It  might  have  been  meant  for,  'Get 
busy'  or  'Get  Bob  Moore  to  find  the  criminal,'  or 
lots  of  things." 

"This  is  no  time  for  fooling,  Moore,"  said  Cor- 
son,  gravely,  "but  you're  right  that  it's  wasting  time 
to  puzzle  over  that  phase  of  the  message.  We're 
lucky  in  having  the  clear  direction  as  to  the  sex  of 
the  criminal, " 

"Unless  it's  all  faked,"  suggested  Gibbs.  "How 
about  the  murderer  being  a  clever  man,  who  had 
this  paper  all  ready,  and  brought  it  with  him  and 
laid  it  beside  his  victim?" 

"Not  a  chance,"  said  Moore.  "I've  checked  up 
that  handwriting  and  it's  his.  Mr  Bates  says  so,  and 
I've  compared  it  to  his  writing, — lots  of  it.  That's 
Sir  Binney's  fist,  all  right." 

Feeling  they  had  learned  all  they  could  from 
Moore,  and  also  feeling  decidedly  tired  and  sleepy, 
the  two  detectives  w»ent  home  and  to  bed. 

Not  at  once  to  sleep,  however,  for  each  had  lots 
of  thinking  to  do  and  each  felt  that  there  were  more 
ways  to  look  than  had  yet  appeared. 

But,  also,  each  thought  the  Prall  suspicion  justi- 
[161] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


fied,  and  each  planned  to  keep  a  wary  eye  in  that 
direction. 

Next  morning,  after  waiting  till  such  an  hour  as 
he  thought  late  enough,  Gibbs  went  to  see  Miss  Prall. 

He  found  a  visitor  already  there,  and  he  was 
presented  to  Mrs  Everett. 

To  his  surprise,  Miss  Prall  made  the  introduc 
tion  as  casually  as  if  it  had  been  a  meeting  of  social 
acquaintances,  and  Gibbs  felt  a  little  awkward  at 
being  expected  to  join  in  a  general  conversation. 

But  he  was  alertly  interested  in  meeting  Mrs 
Everett,  and  especially  in  circumstances  where  he 
might  hear  or  see  some  manifestations  of  the  feud 
he  had  heard  of. 

"My  friend,  Mrs  Everett,  is  about  to  move  away, 
so  you're  lucky  to  chance  upon  her  here,"  Miss 
Letitia  said,  in  honey-sweet  tones. 

"As  to  your  luck,  I  express  no  opinion,"  said  the 
other  lady,  "but  as  to  moving  away,  I've  not  the 
slightest  intention  of  such  a  thing." 

Mrs  Everett  was  inclined  to  be  fair,  afraid  of  be 
ing  fat  and  unwilling  to  admit  being  forty.  She 
was  pretty  in  a  soft,  faded  way,  and  her  voice, 
though  low  and  pleasant,  had  a  sharp  tang  to  it, 
which,  one  felt  sure,  could  increase  at  will. 

"You  said  you  would!"  Miss  Prall  declared,  "but 
I  long  ago  learned  to  put  no  faith  in  your  asser 
tions." 

"You're  saying  I  lie?"  asked  Mrs  Everett,  and 
her  voice  was  still  placid. 

[162] 


Seek  the  Women 


"If  the  shoe  fits,  put  it  on,"  Letitia  laughed. 
"Only,  you  can't  blame  me  for  saying  that  of  you, 
when  you  know  it's  the  truth." 

"Dear  friend,"  murmured  Mrs  Everett,  "how  can 
you  think  I'd  go  off  and  leave  you  while  you're  in 
such  trouble?  I  feel  I  must  stand  by." 

"That's  quite  like  you!  Don't  lose  a  chance  to 
gloat  over  any  sorrow  or  grief  I  may  have !" 

"Do  you  call  it  sorrow  and  grief?  I  didn't  know 
you  thought  so  much  of  the  departed  nobleman — he 
was  a  nobleman,  wasn't  he?  Tut,  tut,  Letitia!  and 
at  your  time  of  life!  Well,  I  suppose  it's  habit  that 
makes  you  set  your  cap  for  any  man  you  chance  ta 
meet." 

"You  always  were  the  greatest  for  judging  others 
by  yourself,  Adeline.  You  were  the  celebrated  cap- 
setter  of  your  day.  Ever  since  you  worried  poor, 
dear  Mr  Everett  into  his  untimely  grave,  you've 
pursued  the  honorable  business  of  cap-setting,  alas ! 
to  no  avail." 

"Don't  you  dare  call  my  husband  dear!  I'll  let 
you  know,  Letitia  Prall,  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
calling  you  dear!" 

"Tee  hee,"  tittered  Eliza  Gurney.  "Don't  be 
jealous  of  Letty,  Mrs  Everett.  She's  had  more 
beaux  than  you  ever  saw,  with  all  your  yellow  curls 
and  red — a  little  too  red  cheeks !" 

"Hush,  Eliza,"  admonished  Miss  Prall,  "our 
caller  will  think  we're  quarrelsome  neighbors.  A& 

a  matter  of  fact,  Mr  Gibbs,  we're " 

[163] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Dearest  enemies?"  he  suggested,  smiling,  for  he 
saw  he  was  expected  to  recognize  the  situation. 

"Yes,"  assented  Letitia  with  a  nod  at  Mrs 
Everett  that  seemed  to  convey  all  sorts  of  inimical 
intent,  undiluted  by  friendliness. 

Gibbs  realized  that  these  two  women  took  such 
pleasure  in  their  bickerings  and  faultfindings  that 
they  really  enjoyed  their  antagonism. 

And  Miss  Eliza  Gurney  was  equally  interested  in 
the  exchange  of  sarcastic  repartee. 

They  kept  on  with  their  sparring  until  Gibbs  be 
gan  to  feel  not  only  uncomfortable  but  impatient. 

"I  called,  Miss  Prall,"  he  began,  but  Mrs  Everett 
interrupted : 

"Oh,  I  know  what  for,"  she  cried,  clasping  her 
fat  hands,  and  giving  an  unpleasant  little  giggle,  "to 
talk  about  the  murder!  Yes,  yes,  and  please  don't 
mind  me.  I  want  to  hear  the  details;  have  you 
found  out  who  did  it?  Who  was  it?  Was  it  those 
sweet  little  dancing  girlies?  I  can't  think  it!" 

"Keep  quiet,  Adeline,"  said  Miss  Prall;  "how  you 
do  run  on!  I  should  think  you'd  have  the  tact  to 
take  your  leave, — but  you  never  had  even  ordinary 
good  manners.  I  can  scarcely  invite  you  to  depart, 
but  I  do  feel  privileged  to  say  you  may  go  if  you 
feel  you  must" 

"Oh,  I  don't  feel  I  must  at  all !  On  the  contrary, 
I  want  to  stay  and  hear  the  news.  For  I'm  sure 
this  gentleman  has  some  news,  I  can  see  it  sticking 
[164] 


Seek  the  Women 


out  all  over  him  1  Go  ahead,  sir,  tell  your  story.  I 
feel  I'm  entitled  to  be  in  the  audience/' 

She  settled  herself  in  her  chair  and  looked  as  if 
nothing  less  than  a  really  severe  earthquake  would 
move  her.  Her  big  round  eyes  danced  from 
Letitia's  face  to  the  detective's.  Her  smile  broad 
ened  as  she  enjoyed  the  discomfiture  of  her  enforced 
hostess.  And  she  positively  reveled  in  the  awkward 
and  embarrassed  silence  that  fell  on  all  in  the  room. 

Then  Eliza  Gurney  said,  "Adeline  Everett,  if  you 
take  my  advice,  you'll  go  away  before  you're  put 
out!" 

"I've  never  taken  your  advice  yet,  Eliza,  and  I 
don't  propose  to  begin  now.  Also,  you'd  better  not 
put  me  out,  for  if  you  do,  I  shall  think  that  what 
Mr  Gibbs  is  about  to  reveal  is  something  you  don't 
want  known, — something  incriminating  to  some  of 
your  own  people !" 

Apparently  she  had  heard  something,  Gibbs 
thought  quickly,  and  he  was  more  than  ever  anxious 
to  get  her  away.  But,  not  knowing  how  to  manage 
such  an  unusual  type  of  womankind,  he  said  instead 
that  he  thought  he  should  retire  and  make  his  call 
some  other  time. 


[165] 


CHAPTER  XI 
The  Old  Feud 

AND  Detective  Gibbs  did  retire  and  did  make 
his  call  some  other  time,  but  he  made  it  not 
on  Miss  Prall,  but  on  Mrs  Everett. 

He  had  fancied  from  her  attitude  that  he  could 
learn  much  from  her  if  he  could  manage  to  gain 
her  attention  and  enlist  her  sympathies. 

With  this  end  in  view  he  went  to  see  her  later 
the  same  day,  and  found  her  not  unwilling  to  talk 
with  him. 

"I  thought  I  should  die,"  she  exclaimed,  clasping 
her  plump  little  hands  and  rocking  back  and  forth 
in  a  becushioned  wicker  chair,  "to  see  Letitia  Prall 
wriggle  around!  Why,  Mr  Gibbs,  it's  clear  to  be 
seen  she  knows  more  than  she  has  told  or  means  to 
tell!  Aren't  you  going  to  make  her  talk?" 

"Why  ^o  you  think  she  knows  something?" 
countered  the  detective. 

"Oh,  I  know  her  so  well.     When  she  purses  up 

her  thin  lips  and  then  widens  them  out  to  a  straight 

line  again,  several  times  in  succession,  that's  a  sure 

sign  she's  terribly  upset.     Didn't  you  notice  her  do 

[166] 


The  Old  Feud 


that?  It's  a  peculiar  habit,  and  I  know  what  it 
means!  Letitia  Prall  was  nearly  frantic  for  fear 
you'd  find  out  something  she  doesn't  want  you  to 
know!" 

''Now,  mother,"  interposed  Dorcas,  who  was  pres 
ent,  "I  don't  think  you  ought  to  say  such  things 
about  Miss  Prall, — this  is  a  serious  matter,  and 
talking  to  a  detective  is  very  different  from  your 
every-day  spats  and  squabbles  with  Miss  Letty." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Dorcas;  and  you'd  better 
leave  the  room.  This  is  no  subject  for  a  young  girl 
to  be  mixed  up  in.  Go  to  Kate  and  let  her  fit  your 
new  guimpe." 

"I'm  just  ready  to  try  it  on,"  and  Kate,  the  maid, 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  her  mouth  full  of  pins, 
and  her  hands  full  of  voluminous  breadths  of  tulle. 

"But  I'd  like  to  hear  what  this  man  has  to  say," 
she  went  on,  dropping  her  work  on  a  table  as  she 
took  a  chair  for  herself.  "I  know  a  thing  or  two 
about  this  murder,"  she  declared,  as  she  looked 
curiously  at  Gibbs,  "and  it  would  be  to  your  advan 
tage,  sir,  to  listen  to  my  tale." 

"Oh,  nonsense,"  put  in  Mrs  Everett,  "you  don't 
know  anything,  Kate.  She's  a  visionary  creature, 
Mr  Gibbs,  and  greatly  given  to  romancing." 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,"  spoke  up  Kate,  briskly, 
and  Gibbs  wondered  at  the  strange  apparent  relation 
between  mistress  and  servant. 

But  as  he  listened  further,  he  gathered  that  Kate 
had  been  so  long  the  stay  and  dependence  of  the 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Everett  houshold,  that  her  position  was  more  that 
of  a  housekeeper  and  general  manager  than  an  un 
derling. 

It  seemed  that  Mrs  Everett  depended  on  the 
woman  for  service,  yet  was  chummy  with  her  as 
with  a  companion.  Kate  sewed  for  Dorcas  and  kept 
her  clothing  in  order,  looked  after  Mrs  Everett's 
social  engagements  and  was  useful  in  so  many  ways 
that  it  was  not  difficult  to  see  why  she  was  made 
much  of  by  her  employer. 

Then,  too,  it  was  clear  that  she  was  entirely  con 
versant  with  the  feud,  its  progress  and  present  con 
dition.  She  was  deeply  interested  in  the  murder 
mystery  and,  though  Gibbs  rather  doubted  it,  she 
might  have  something  of  importance  to  tell  him. 

So,  as  Dorcas  obeyed  her  mother  and  left  the 
room,  the  detective  listened  to  the  chatter  of  the 
two  women,  and  from  the  volume  of  inconsequent 
talk  he  gleaned  much  of  interest. 

Especially  he  learned  the  character  of  Miss  Prall, 
or,  rather,  the  traits  of  her  character  that  interested 
the  Everett  household. 

Their  tales  may  have  been  exaggerted,  probably 
were,  but  he  decided  they  contained  internal  evidence 
of  Letitia's  insincerity  and  untruthfulness. 

He  found  out  to  his  own  conviction  that  he  could 
not  rely  implicitly  on  the  word  of  Miss  Prall,  and, 
this  granted,  her  whole  story  might  fall  to  the 
ground. 

The  feud  was  talked  over  and  detailed  to  him  until 
[168] 


The  Old  Feud 


he  was  positively  sick  of  it,  but  he  persevered  in 
the  talk,  trying  to  lead  it  toward  the  murder. 

But  the  women  were  wary  of  this  subject. 
Whether  it  was  too  grewsome  for  their  taste  or 
whether  there  was  some  other  reason,  Gibbs  tried 
hard  to  find  out. 

"But  you  told  me  you  had  something  to  commu 
nicate,"  he  insisted,  to  the  canny-looking  Kate. 

Her  sharp  eyes  scrutinized  him. 

"Oh,"  I  don't  know  anything  definite,"  she  said, 
with  a  somewhat  defiant  glance  at  Mrs  Everett. 
"And  if  I  did,  I'm  not  allowed  to  tell  it." 

"If  you  know  anything  at  all, — definite  or  sug 
gestive,  you're  to  tell  it,  whether  you're  allowed  or 
not!"  Gibbs  cried,  willing  to  try  intimidation. 
"Don't  you  know,  woman,  that  you  can  be  jailed 
if  you  withhold  information  from  the  police?" 

Mrs  Everett  giggled.  "You  can't  frighten  Kate," 
she  said;  "she  has  no  fear  of  anything." 

"Why  should  I  have?"  and  Kate  looked  belliger 
ent.  "I  know  all  about  the  police.  I'll  tell  anything 
I  see  fit  to,  and  nothing  more." 

Calmly,  she  took  up  the  mass  of  white  tulle,  and 
began  to  sew  on  it. 

"That  attitude  won't  do,  Kate,"  said  Gibbs,  seri 
ously.  "Bluff  and  bravado  won't  get  you  any 
where." 

"I  don't  want  to  get  anywhere;  I  haven't  set  out 
for  anywhere,"  and  with  a  flippant  swish  of  the 
tulle  stuff,  Kate  rose  and  started  to  leave  the  room. 
[169] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Wait  a  minute,"  ordered  Gibbs.  "You've  gone 
too  far  to  back  out  now.  You  said,  or  implied,  you 
had  something  to  tell, — now,  you  tell  it!" 

"Goodness,  Kate,  tell  it, — if  you've  anything  to 
tell !"  Mrs  Everett  spoke  with  a  sharp  glance  at  the 
woman. 

"Well,  I  will,  then.  But  it's  no  tale  of  happenings 
or  that.  It's  only  that  I  know  Miss  Prall  was  wish 
ing  Mr  Binney  out  of  the  way.  She  was  wishing  it 
so  hard  that  I  myself  heard  her  say,  'If  I  was  sure 
I  wouldn't  get  caught,  I'd  kill  him  myself !' ' 

"She  said  that?" 

"Yes,  sir,  she  did.-    Mrs  Everett  heard  her,  too." 

"I  did,"  admitted  Mrs  Everett  as  Gibbs  looked  at 
her  inquiringly.  "But  don't  take  it  too  seriously. 
Letitia  Prall  and  I  are  enemies,  have  been  for  years, 
— but  I'm  not  the  one  to  brand  her  with  the  mark 
of  Cain !  That  I'm  not." 

"Well,  I  will,"  declared  Kate.  "She's  quite  cap 
able  of  it,  she  has  expressed  her  willingness,  and  she 
had  strong  motive.  What  more  do  you  want  ?" 

"What  was  her  motive?"  asked  Gibbs  in  a  casual 
tone,  hoping  to  draw  further  light  on  these  remark 
able  statements. 

"Why, "    Kate   hesitated,    but   Mrs    Everett 

smiled  and  nodded  permission,  and  Kate  went  on; 
"why,  you  see  Miss  Dorcas  and  young  Mr  Bates 
are  friendly-like,  and  old  Binney " 

"Sir  Herbert,"  prompted  Mrs  Everett,  pointedly. 
[  170] 


The  Old  Feud 


"Well,  Sir  Herbert,  then,  he  was  in  favor  of  the 
two  marrying." 

"And  neither  Mrs  Everett  nor  Miss  Prall  approve 
the  match  ?"  Gibbs  put  in  quickly. 

"Of  course  they  don't!  Well,  Miss  Prall,  she's 
one  who  would  try  and  try  to  persuade  Sir  Herbert 
to  change  his  mind " 

"And  his  will,"  suggested  Gibbs. 

"And  his  will,"  agreed  Kate,  "and  then,  when 
she  couldn't  persuade  him, — he  had  the  devil's  own 
stubbornness, " 

"And  so  has  she,"  observed  Mrs  Everett. 

"That's  right!  Well,  when  she  couldn't  do  any 
thing  with  him,  she  up  and  killed  him." 

"Women,  he  wrote." 

"Of  course ;  Eliza  Gurney  helped.  Probably  Eliza 
did  the  actual  deed.  She'd  cut  off  anybody's  head 
that  Letitia  Prall  told  her  to!  But  those  are  the 
women  you're  looking  for,  and  if  you  want  to  jail 
me  for  telling  you,  go  ahead !" 

"No,"  Gibbs  told  her,  "you  won't  be  jailed  for 
telling  that, — if  it's  true.  But,  if  it  isn't, — you  want 
to  be  careful  about  slander,  you  know." 

Kate  looked  a  little  startled,  but  Mrs  Everett 
laughed. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  Kate  ;Mr.  Gibbs  can't  punish  you 
for  an  opinion.  You  haven't  stated  any  facts." 

"Except  that  she  heard  Miss  Prall's  threat  to  kill 
Sir  Herbert,"  Gibbs  reminded  her. 

"It  wasn't  a  threat  at  all.  I  heard  her  say  it,  and 
[171] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


it  was  merely  an  outburst  of  anger.    I  doubt  if  she 
meant  it " 

"Do  you  doubt  her  capable  of  committing  such  a 
crime?"  the  detective  asked,  so  suddenly  that  he 
took  his  listener  by  surprise. 

But  she  was  not  to  be  caught.  "My  theory  is," 
she  smiled,  "that  as  Goethe  says,  'We  are  all  capable 
of  crime,  even  the  best  of  us.'  I  truly  think  that 
most  human  beings  could  commit  crime,  given  suf 
ficient  motive  and  opportunity." 

"All  very  fine  in  theory,"  said  Gibbs,  smiling, 
"but  are  you  willing  to  assert  that  Miss  Prall  or — 
or  yourself,  would  be  capable  of  the  murder  of  Sir 
Herbert  Binney,  if  you  had  a  perfect  opportunity 
and  if  you  considered  your  motive  strong  enough?" 

"Oh,  /  wouldn't  have  done  it !"  and  Mrs  Everett 
looked  shocked,  indeed,  "but, — well,  maybe  I  do 
think  Letitia  Prall  would  have  done  it." 

"Aided  and  abetted  by  Miss  Gurney,"  the  detec 
tive  egged  her  on. 

"Yes ;  Eliza  would  have  been  not  only  a  help  but 
a  commander, — a  tyrant,  even." 

"And  Miss  Gurney  wished  the  old  gentleman  out 
of  the  way  ?" 

"Oh,  yes ;  as  much,  perhaps,  as  Letitia.  You  see, 
if  he  died  just  now,  his  fortune  would  be  young 
Bates'  and  the  boy  could  go  on  with  his  chosen 
career,  without  being  pestered  to  make  buns !  More 
over,  Sir  Herbert  favored  Rickey's  marriage " 

"To  your  daughter?" 

[172] 


The  Old  Feud 


"To  anybody, — any  nice  young  woman.  My 
daughter  is  out  of  the  question  and  not  to  be  spoken 
of  in  this  connection." 

Mrs  Everett  drew  herself  up  in  with  an  effect  of 
injured  dignity  and  looked  scornfully  at  Gibbs. 

"But  you  seem  to  eliminate  the  young  people 
themselves  as  factors  in  the  romance  part  of  it  all." 

"They  are  not  factors.  My  daughter  has  suf 
ficient  confidence  in  my  judgment  to  agree  to  my 
advice.  She  knows  my  attitude  toward  Miss  Prall 
and  she  would  not  encourage  or  accept  the  attentions 
of  her  nephew." 

"You're  sure  of  this?" 

"Of  course  I'm  sure  of  it!  Dorcas  is  a  sweet, 
obedient  child,  and  she  would  not  deceive  her  loving 
and  beloved  mother.  Also,  she  knows  the  despicable 
and  unworthy  nature  of  Miss  Prall,  and  she  assumes, 
as  I  do,  that  Richard  is  of  the  same  stamp." 

"Then  you  don't  know  the  young  man?  You 
only  assume  his  character?  Is  that  quite  fair?" 

"Fair  enough  for  anybody  belonging  to  the  Prall 
family!  They  cannot  expect  fairness!  They 
wouldn't  even  appreciate  it !  Letitia  Prall  is  a  mean, 
low  type  of  womanhood, — a  deceitful,  unjust,  dis 
loyal,  contemptible  snake  in  the  grass !" 

"That's  so,"  chimed  in  Kate;  "she's  proved  all 
that  over  and  over, — and  more  too!  She  has  no 
notion  of  common  decency  toward  her  neighbors; 
she  is  a  two-faced,  backbiting,  sneaky,  tattletale !" 

"But  this  doesn't  prove  young  Bates " 

[173] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Yes,  it  does!"  the  detective's  argument  was  cut 
off;  "she  brought  him  up,  and  she  taught  him  all 
her  own  evil  principles,  and  her  own  way  of  thinking 
and  talking " 

"But  you  scarcely  know  the  man, " 

"That's  doesn't  matter!  He's  the  nephew  of 
Letitia  Prall, — and  that's  enough  for  me!  My 
daughter  shall  never  speak  to  him, — never  meet  him, 
— and  lest  such  a  chance  should  occur  accidentally, 
I  am  planning  to  move  away." 

"You  don't  think  your  daughter  is — is  interested 
in  Mr  Bates?" 

"I  know  she  is  not!  Dorcas  is  a  wayward- 
tempered  child,  but  she  is  loyal  to  her  mother  and 
her  mother's  wishes.  She  wouldn't  dream  of  seeing 
Richard  Bates  against  my  will." 

Now,  as  it  happened  at  that  very  moment,  the 
loyal  child  was  apparently  quite  oblivious  of  the 
wishes  of  her  beloved  mother,  for  she  was  sitting  by 
the  side  of  the  objurgated  Richard  on  a  bench  in 
Central  Park. 

When  told  to  leave  the  room  by  her  mother,  she 
had  also  left  the  Everett  apartment,  and  later,  the 
house. 

By  some  discreet  telephoning  she  had  summoned 
the  despised  young  man  and  the  two  had  sauntered 
out  of  The  Campanile,  separately,  and  joined  com 
pany  soon  after. 

"It's  a  risk,"  Dorcas  was  saying,  "and  if  mother 
catches  on,  she'll  give  me  Hail  Columbia,  but  I  just 
[174] 


The  Old  Feud 


had  to  see  you !    Do  you  know  what  they're  saying 
about  your  uncle's  murder,  now?" 

"No ;  and  I  don't  want  to  hear  from  you.  Please, 
dear,  let's  leave  all  that  horror  out  of  our  conversa 
tion.  We  get  so  few  moments  together  and  I  need 
every  one  of  them  to  tell  you  how  I  love  you." 

"Then,"  the  red  lips  pouted,  "when  am  I  to  tell 
you  how  much  I  love  you?" 

"Oh,  Dork !  you  do  say  the  sweetest  things !  Tell 
me,  darling,  tell  me,  first,  then  I'll  tell  you " 

"We  may  as  well  both  talk  at  once,"  Dorcas 
laughed.  "We  can  say  the  same  things, — it'll  really 
be  a  duet !" 

"All  right,  say  with  me, — I  love  you.  Ready,  one, 
two,  three,  go !" 

"I  love  you !"  they  said  in  concert. 

"No  fun,"  decided  Dorcas ;  "I  want  you  to  tell  me 
separately." 

So  Richard  did,  to  such  an  extent  and  with  so 
much  detail  and  reiteration  that  the  moments  flew 
by,  and  it  was  time  to  go  home  before  the  other 
side  of  the  shield  was  painted. 

"But,  Ricky,  dear,"  Dorcas  said  finally,  "I  must 
talk  a  little  about  this  awful  thing.  I've  heard  a  lot 
of  hints  and  whispers, — for  mother  and  Kate  shut 
up  as  soon  as  I  come  into  the  room, — and  I  want  to 
know  this :  "Is  your  aunt,  Miss  Prall,  suspected  of 
killing  Sir  Herbert?" 

"Good  Lord,  no!  What  an  awful  idea!  Where 
did  you  dig  that  up?" 

[175] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"I've  heard  a  lot,  I  tell  you.  And  some  people 
do  think  so !" 

"But  it's  absurd!  Impossible!  Also,  I  won't 
have  such  talk  going  around!  You  must  tell  me, 
Dork,  where  you  heard  it !  Tell  me  all  you  know." 

"I  don't  know  anything,  Rick,  but  I  think  you 
ought  to  do  something  definite  in  the  way  of  detec 
tive  work.  Those  men  don't  get  anywhere?" 

"Why,  what  do  you  mean?  What  do  you  know 
about  that,  Little  Peachbloom  ?" 

-  "I  don't  know  anything.  And  you  don't,  either. 
But  unless  you  find  out  something  there'll  be  trouble. 
Now,  Rick,  stop  treating  me  as  a  baby  and  talk  about 
it.  Who  do  you  think  killed  him?" 

"Honestly,  Dorrie,  I  think,  just  as  he  wrote,  some 
women  did  it.  I  don't  know  who  they  were,  and 
I'm  not  sure  I  care  to  know, — for  they  were,  no 
doubt,  some — some  people  with  whom  we  have  no 
concern." 

"That  may  be,"  said  the  girl,  very  soberly,  "and 
it  may  not  be.  You  must  realize,  Rick,  that  those 
silly  little  chorus  girls  might  have  had  reason  to  hate 
the  man,  but  they  could  scarcely  compass  that  kill 
ing." 

Bates  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  said,  slowly;  "that  is, 
what  are  you  hinting  ?" 

"Only  that  I  think  the  murderers  are  of  a  higher 
type  of  women  than  giddy  youngsters, " 

"Murderers  can't  be  of  a  very  high  tyj 
[176] 


The  Old  Feud 


"I  don't  mean  high  type  of  character,  but  of 
brains.  To  my  mind,  that  deed  implies  women  of 
cleverness  and  mental  power." 

"Such  as, ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  But  girls  in  our  house  are 
all  older  and  wiser  than  a  lot  of  giddy  chorus  girls. 
Why  not  suspect  them  ?" 

"Why  suspect  anybody?  I  mean,  what  do  we 
care  ?  In  one  sense,  I'd  like  to  see  the  death  of  Uncle 
Herbert  avenged,  but  on  the  other  hand  I'd  hate  to 
see  women's  names  dragged  through  the  police 
court " 

"But  if  they  were  guilty?" 

"That's  just  the  point !  Ten  chances  to  one  they 
wouldn't  be.  I  mean  those  dunder-headed  detectives 
are  quite  capable  of  getting  the  wrong  ones  and  then 
railroading  them  through." 

"Perhaps  so.  But  I  think  you  ought  to  do  more 
than  you  have  done.  Why,  Rick, — if, — if  you  don't, 
first  thing  you  know  they'll  suspect  you!" 

"What!  Don't  be  foolish,  dear.  I'm  not  a 
woman." 

"I  know,  but  some  people  think  that's  a 
blind, " 

"It  can't  be  a  blind.  There's  Uncle  Bin's  writing, 
— and  I  know  him  well  enough  to  be  sure  that  with 
his  dying  breath  he  didn't  write  anything  but  the 
truth.  No,  sir,  women  are  responsible  for  that  mur 
der,  and  directly,  too.  Uncle  Bin  never  flung  that 
accusation  at  women  if  they  were  merely  implicated. 
[177] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Now,  don't  you  see,  dear,  that  investigation  must 
result  in  tragedy  for  some  women, — and,  as  I  say, — 
probably  not  the  guilty  ones." 

"But  it  must  be  fastened  on  the  guilty  ones. 
They  must  be  found " 

Dorcas'  red  lower  lip  quivered,  and  the  big  tears 
gathered  in  her  eyes.  She  strove  to  keep  her  calm 
ness  but  she  was  rapidly  losing  control  over  her 
emotions. 

"Why,  Dorrie,  darling,  what  is  it?  Tell  me, — 
I'll  do  whatever  you  want, — whatever  you  say !  Do 
you  know  something  you  haven't  told  me?  Some 
thing  you  don't  want  to  tell  me?  What  is  the  mat 
ter,  dearest?" 

"That's  it;  I  do  know  something, — or  I  fear 
something,  I  don't  want  to  tell  you, — at  least  not  yet, 

— but Rick,  let's  do  something,  you  and  me, — 

toward  solving  the  mystery." 

"Oh,  no,  dear.  Please  don't  mix  your  own  sweet 
self  into  this  horrid  moil.  I'll  do  what  you  tell  me 
to,  but  don't  dip  into  the  trouble  yourself,— I  beg 
of  you,  don't!" 

"Richard,"  and  Dorcas  stood  up,  her  face  taking 
on  a  determined  look,  "come  on  home  with  me,  and 
go  with  me  to  talk  to  a  woman, — one  of  the  maids 
of  the  house.  Don't  interfere, — don't  even  inter 
rupt,  just  stand  by  me,  and  be  ready  if  I  call  on 
you  for  help." 

Bewildered,  and  not  entirely  willing,  Bates  con 
sented  and  the  two  went  back  to  The  Campanile. 

[178] 


The  Old  Feud 


Unhindered  by  any  message  from  Dorcas'  mother 
or  Richard's  aunt,  they  went  up  in  the  elevator  andj 
on  one  of  the  highest  floors,  Dorcas  sought  out 
the  head  chambermaid's  office. 

"I  want  to  know  about  Maggie  and  Jane,"  she 
said,  straightforwardly.  "Maggie  is  our  chamber 
maid,  and  Jane  is  a  friend  of  hers.  I  have  a  rea 
son,  that  I  don't  wish  to  state  at  present,  but  I  ask 
you  frankly  if  those  two  girls  are  honest  and  re 
liable?" 

The  woman  addressed  hesitated. 

"They  are,  miss,  so  far  as  I  know.  But  I  think 
it's  my  duty  to  tell  you,  that  I've  heard  other  whis 
pers  of  complaint.  We're  very  particular  about  the 
help  in  this  house,  and  I  can't  keep  any  girl  on,  who's 
even  so  much  as  suspected.  Have  you  any  definite 
complaint  to  make,  Miss  Everett?" 

"There,  you  see,"  broke  in  Bates.  "You  mustn't 
harm  those  girls'  reputation  by  a  vague  suspicion, 
Dorcas.  If  you  know  anything  against  them,  that's 
one  thing.  But  a  hint  goes  so  far,  and  it  may  be 
against  an  innocent  girl." 

"I  know  it,"  Dorcas  looked  very  earnest,  "so  I 
ask  you,  Mrs  Malone,  not  to  mention  this.  But  tell 
me,  where  were  those  two  girls  the  night  of  the 
murder  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney?" 

"Oh,  that!"  and  Mrs  Malone  looked  greatly  re 
lieved.    "They  were  in  their  own  beds  asleep, — both 
of  them.     That  I  can  swear  to.     I  thought  you 
meant  they'd  been  dishonest, — stealing  something." 
[179] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"No,  I  didn't,"  said  Dorcas,  frankly.  "I  really 
wanted  to  know  just  what  I  asked.  Will  you  forget 
it, — since  you've  answered  me  as  you  have?" 

"Yes,  indeed,  miss,"  the  woman  agreed,  her  de 
cision  influenced  perhaps  by  the  bill  that  was  quietly 
slipped  into  her  not  unready  hand. 

"Well,  I  must  say,"  and  Bates  looked  at  his  com 
panion  as  they  went  slowly  along  the  hall  to  the 
elevator,  "you  did  stir  up  a  tempest  without  even 
a  teapot!  What's  the  big  idea?" 

"Don't  speak  like  that,  Rick,"  Dorcas  implored. 
"Try  to  see  things  as  I  do.  Or  must  I  tell  you  right 
out  that  if  there's  no  chorus  girl,  no  chambermaid, 
no  elevator  girl  to  fasten  suspicion  on,  it  is  going 
to  be  fastened  on  some  one  else.  Can't  you  guess 
who?" 

"That  I  can't,"  and  Bates  looked  blankly  at  her. 
"Do  you  mean  some  of  Uncle  Bin's  English  people 
came  over  here  and  did  for  him  ?" 

"I  do  not.  I  mean  that  there  are  people  who  will 
think, — who  are  already  thinking  there's  reason  to 
direct  their  inquiries  toward — toward  your  aunt." 

Bates  stared;  "Aunt  Letitia?"  he  said,  half  under- 
standingly;  "she  didn't  do  it." 

"I  don't  think  she  did !"  Dorcas  was  irritated  at 
his  bewilderment.  "But  I  tell  you  the  detectives 
think  so!" 

"Oh,  Dork,  what  awful  rot!  Dear  child,  you 
must  keep  out  of  this  affair.  It  makes  you  crazy." 

"I'm  not  crazy!  But  you're  blind.  I  tell  you, 
[180] 


The  Old  Feud 


Rick,  the  detectives  do  suspect  Miss  Prall, — I  heard 
them  tell  mother  so, — and  you  must  wake  up  and 
look  into  things." 

"I  should  say  so!"  Bates  seemed  to  get  awake  all 
at  once.  "You  heard  this,  Dorcas?  I'm  glad  you 
told  me.  Go  home,  dear,  and  I'll  look  up  Gibbs  or 
Corson  at  once!" 


[181] 


CHAPTER  XII 
One  Woman  and  Another 

BATES'  search  for  Gibbs  or  Corson  resulted  in 
finding  the  former  in  the  rooms  of  the  late 
Sir  Herbert  Binney.  Peters  was  also  there, 
packing  up  the  personal  effects  of  the  dead  man  pre 
paratory  to  vacating  the  apartment. 

As  sole  heir,  Bates  was  in  authority  regarding 
these  effects,  but  he  had  paid  little  attention  to  them 
beyond  giving  orders  to  have  them  packed  and  stored 
for  the  present. 

"Thought  I'd  dig  around  a  bit,"  Gibbs  vouch 
safed,  "but  there's  no  indicative  evidence  that  I  can 
find.  No  papers  of  an  incriminating  sort,  no  sign 
of  any  special  woman  friend — or  feminine  enemy, 
for  that  matter." 

"Never  mind  generalities  or  suppositions.  Look 
here,  Mr  Gibbs,  what  about  my  aunt's  connection 
with  this  matter?" 

Gibbs  looked  up  quickly.  "Just  what  do  you  mean 
by  that?" 

"Only  that  I've  heard  that  you  are  considering 
the  possibility  of  her  being  implicated.  Are  you?" 

"I'm  considering  any  possibility  I  can  find  to  con- 
[182] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


sider.  Yes,  since  you  ask  me,  I  am  looking  into 
the  question  of  your  aunt's  connection  with  the  case. 
I  know  you  want  me  to  be  frank." 

"I  do.    Have  you  any  real  evidence  to  work  on?" 

"Only  talk.  Only  somewhat  vague  reports  that  I 
have  yet  to  investigate." 

"Reports,  no  doubt,  from  Mrs  Everett,  my  aunt's 
longtime  foe." 

"Yes,  that's  the  source  of  the  hints  I  had  given 
me.  But  Mrs  Everett  does  not  accuse  your 
aunt " 

"She'd  better  not!" 

"Oh,  she  doesn't.  But  the  matter  must  be  looked 

into,  for  there  is  a  motive,  and  your  aunt 

Really,  I  can't  discuss  this  thing  with  you,  Mr 
Bates!" 

"But  you  must.  I'm  in  charge, — I'm  going  to  find 
out  who  killed  my  uncle.  I  admit  I  hadn't  a  great 
desire  to  know  his  murderer,  when  I  supposed  it  was 
some  girls  or  women  with  whom  he  was  mixed  up 
in  a  frivolous  way.  But  if  my  aunt's  name  is  so 
much  as  breathed,  of  course,  I  must  discover  the 
real  murderer  to  save  her  reputation.  She  no  more 
did  it  than  I  did, — but  I  daresay  the  people  who 
suspect  her  would  also  implicate  me!" 

"Don't  speak  like  that.  I've  only  a  hint  to  go 
upon,  and  though  I  must  follow  it  up,  it's  an  easy 
matter,  no  doubt,  for  all  your  aunt's  household  to 
state  an  alibi  and  that  settles  it." 

"Real  alibis  are  not  always  easy  to  prove.  It's 
[183] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


your  faked  alibi  that's  glibly  detailed  and  sworn  to. 
There's  no  one  in  my  aunt's  household  but  herself, 
myself,  and  Miss  Gurney,  her  companion.  We 
three  were  in  our  beds  and  asleep  at  the  time  of  the 
murder,  but  we  can't  prove  it  by  eye  witnes?pc ' 
Naturally,  there's  no  one  to  swear  to  it,  except  our 
selves.  Now,  where  does  that  lead  you?" 

"To  further  investigation.  You  know  your  aunt's 
paper-cutter  was  found " 

"That  proves  nothing.  You  must  connect  that 
knife  undeniably  with  the  crime  before  you  can  use 
it  against  her." 

"I  grant  that.  But  first,  let's  look  into  the  mo 
tive.  Your  aunt  did  want  Sir  Herbert  out  of  the 
way.  She  did  say  she  wished  he  was  dead.  She 
did  say  she  would  kill  him  herself  if  she  were  sure 
she'd  never  be  found  out." 

"I  know  she  said  those  things,  for  I  heard  her, — 
not  once,  but  repeatedly.  But  my  aunt  is  a  quick 
tempered  and  thoughtless-speaking  woman.  She  has 
time  and  again  wished  various  people  dead.  She  has 
often  expressed  her  willingness  to  kill  certain  peo 
ple.  But  it  meant  no  more, — as  she  said  it, — than 
for  another  to  wish  bad  luck  to  them,  or  say  they 
hate  them.  She  is  most  unguarded  in  her  expres 
sions  and  exaggerates  always.  These  things  must 
be  understood  by  you  before  you  accuse  her.  She 
has  frequently  wished  herself  dead,  but  she  didn't 
mean  it  any  more  than  she  meant  it  regarding  Sir 
Herbert."  " 

[184] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


"All  that  will  be  considered  and  remembered,  but 
we  must  question  her." 

"You'd  better  question  me.  I  can  tell  you  any 
thing  she  can,  and  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner." 

"Tell  us  all  you  like, — all  you  will,  but  we  must 
also  question  Miss  Prall  and  Miss  Gurney." 

"All  right,  but  there  are  other  directions  in  which 
to  look.  Don't  be  too  sure  that  women  committed 
the  deed." 

"No  use  your  trying  to  throw  over  that  dying 
statement.  No  use  looking  for  a  man  in  the  case, 
with  that  note  before  our  eyes.  You  know  your 
self  if  a  man  or  men  had  killed  Sir  Herbert  nothing 
could  have  influenced  him  to  write  a  denunciation 
of  women.  Why  would  he?  What  possible  circum 
stance  could  explain  it?  Have  you  any  theory  that 
would  fit  the  facts?" 

"No,  unless  a  man  killed  him  at  the  instigation 
of  or  in  behalf  of  some  women  and  Sir  Herbert 
wanted  the  deed  traced  to  its  true  source." 

"Even  that  doesn't  seem  to  make  plausible  a 
positive  assertion  that  'women  did  this.'  No, 
there's  no  getting  away  from  that  avowal.  And, 
you  must  see  that  the  use  of  the  plural, — women, — 
signifies  collusion.  Two  or  more  must  be  implicated. 
Not  necessarily  two  or  more  present  at  the  moment 
of  the  crime,  but  two  or  more  to  be  found  and  pun 
ished." 

"Yes,  I  see  all  that, — and  I  want  to  find  the 
criminals  as  much  as  you  do.  Especially  now,  since 
[185] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Miss  Frail's  name  has  been  dragged  in.  But  I  do 
want  you  to  understand  how  little  her  hints  at  'kill 
ing'  anybody  really  mean.  You  know  what  an 
extravagant  talker  she  is." 

"I  do  know  that,  and  I  assure  you  I'll  make  all 
allowances.  But  I  can't  leave  any  stone  unturned." 

The  man  Peters  had  been  in  and  out  of  the  room 
and,  as  he  reappeared,  Richard  said,  "You  know 
Miss  Prall,  Peters.  You  know  how  carelessly  she 
speaks  of  serious  things?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do.  But  you  needn't  tell  me  them 
little  chickens  ever  had  any  hand  in  the  murderin' ! 
Why,  they  just  couldn't  have  had." 

"Anything  is  possible,  Peters,"  said  Bates, 
sternly.  "And  I  don't  want  you  to  make  those  defi 
nite  statements.  They  mean  nothing,  save  that  such 
is  your  opinion." 

"But  my  opinions  is  pretty  sound  ones,  Mr  Bates, 
an'  founded  on  a  lot  of  personal  knowledge  of  Sir 
Herbert, — rest  his  soul.  And  I  tell  you,  gentlemen, 
that  that  deed  could  never  ha'  been  done  by  young 
girls, — neither  the  little  ladies  that  Sir  Herbert  was 
fond  of  kitin'  round  with  nor  yet  the  girls  employed 
in  this  house.  No,  sir,  that  fearful  crime  was 
planned  and  carried  out  by  older  heads  than  theirs. 
Men  or  women  might  'a'  done  it, — but  never  little 
half-baked  flappers  like  them  you're  suspectin'." 

"There's  sense  in  that,"  mused  Gibbs,  and  Bates 
flared  out:  "I  suppose  that  leads  you  more  cer 
tainly  to  suspicion  of  my  aunt.  But  you're  wrong, 
[186] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


Gibbs,  all  wrong !  Now,  look  here,  suppose,  just  for 
a  moment,  there  had  been  no  written  message, — 
which  way  would  you  look  then?" 

"Toward  some  business  complications,"  said 
Gibbs,  promptly.  "You  see,  Sir  Herbert  Binney 
was  putting  over  an  awful  big  deal  in  that  matter  of 
his  Bun  business.  He  had  dickered  with  several  big 
bakery  companies  and  he  was  a  shrewd  man  at  a 
bargain." 

"And  he  was  in  bad  with  some  of  the  men  he 
was  bargaining  with,"  vouchsafed  Peters,  who  was  a 
privileged  participant  in  the  conversation,  because 
Gibbs  hoped  by  this  means  to  learn  something  from 
the  valet. 

"Who,  for  instance?"  demanded  Bates. 

"Graham,  of  the  Popular  Patisserie  concern;  Vail, 
here  in  the  house,  and  Crippen  of  Crippen's  Cakes." 

"Nothing  doing,"  returned  Gibbs,  shortly.  "I've 
dug  into  all  those  issues.  He  was  off  with  the 
Patisserie  people  weeks  ago.  He  finished  discussion 
with  the  Vail  company  some  days  since,  and  the  only 
one  pending  was  the  Crippen  bunch." 

"Yes,  and  my  aunt  says  he  expected  to  see  Crip 
pen  the  night  he  was  killed." 

"Well,  he  didn't,"  returned  Gibbs.  "I've  looked 
up  Crippen's  alibi  and  it's  gilt-edged.  Vail  was  in 
the  elevator  with  Bob  Moore  at  the  time  of  the  mur 
der, — that  lets  him  out ;  and  the  Patisseries  are  back 
numbers.  I  mean  they  got  through  with  Binney's 
Buns  as  a  working  proposition,  long  ago." 

[187] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"They  might  have  come  back  to  it,"  suggested 
Bates. 

"Sure  they  might, — so  might  Crippen  or  Vail. 
But  they  didn't, — or  if  they  did,  we've  no  tiniest 
speck  of  evidence  of  it.  If  you  can  get  any,  go 
ahead.  You  don't  know  of  anything  against  the 
Bakery  men,  do  you,  Peters  ?" 

"No,  sir.  But  Mr  Crippen  and  Mr  Vail  have 
both  been  here " 

"Here!  In  Sir  Herbert's  rooms?"  cried  Bates. 
"What  for?" 

"Mr  Vail,  he  just  dropped  in,  as  he  was  passing 
by,  and  he  looked  round  the  room,  like  in  idle  curi 
osity.  He  said,  'Poor  old  chap,  he  was  a  good 
sport,'  and  went  away.  That  wasn't  so  strange,  for 
he  often  used  to  drop  in  for  a  chat  with  my  master. 
But  Mr  Crippen,  now,  he  never  came  here,  that  I 
know  of,  while  Sir  Herbert  was  alive.  But  the  day 
after  he  died,  Mr  Crippen  comes  with  a  sort  of 
determined  air,  and  he  wants  to  look  round, — and 
more,  he  wants  to  look  over  Sir  Herbert's  papers. 
Of  course,  I  didn't  let  him  do  that,  but  it  seemed 
sorta  queer, — didn't  it,  now  ?" 

"Maybe  and  maybe  not,"  said  Gibbs.  "I  suspect 
there  might  have  been  a  letter  from  himself  that 
he  wanted  to  get  possession  of,  or  something  like 
that.  I  say,  as  I  have  said  from  the  first,  if  it  were 
not  for  the  written  paper,  I  might  have  suspected 
these  business  men,  but  I'm  sure  that's  the  very  rea 
son  Sir  Herbert  did  write  the  paper,  so  we  would 
[188] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


not  go  off  on  a  wrong  tack.  It  proves  to  me  the 
determination  of  his  strong  mind  to  lead  us  in  the 
right  direction  and  not  let  us  pursue  the  most 
obvious  but  mistaken  course  of  looking  into  the  Bun 
matters." 

"I  agree  with  you  on  the  face  of  things,"  said 
young  Bates,  with  a  sigh,  "and  if  you  hadn't  men 
tioned  Miss  Prall,  I'd  let  you  go  your  own  gait,  but 
now  you  have  mentioned  her,  I  shall  get  into  the 
game  myself  and  spare  no  effort  or  expense  to  dig 
up  the  truth!  And,  first  of  all,  I'm  going  back  to 
Bob  Moore.  I  don't  think  he  knows  anything  more 
than  he's  told,  but  I  do  think  I  can  learn  more  from 
him  now  I've  got  my  mad  up !" 

"Come  on,  I'll  go  with  you,"  and  Gibbs  accom 
panied  the  young  man  to  the  elevator. 

Moore  was  not  in  the  house,  and  Bates,  deter 
mined  to  learn  something,  went  to  Julie  Baxter,  who 
was  at  her  switchboard. 

He  took  her,  Gibbs  following,  to  a  small  reception 
room,  where  they  could  be  by  themselves. 

"Now,  Julie,"  Bates  said,  "you've  got  to  come 
across  with  the  true  story  of  your  doings  the  night 
of  the  murder.  You  are  not  suspected,  but  you 
will  be  if  you  don't  'fess  up.  It's  a  fool  thing  to  do, 
to  refuse  to  tell,  when  continued  silence  may  get  you 
in  very  bad.  So,  out  with  it." 

"You  did  the  same  thing  yourself,  Mr  Bates," 
and  Julie  glared  at  him.  "You  refused  to  tell " 

"But  I'm  not  a  woman;  they  can't  suspect  me. 
[189] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Also,  I'll  tell,  if  I  have  to.    My  story  won't  incrim 
inate  me.    Go  ahead,  now, — let's  hear." 

"I'll  tell  where  I  was,  if  you'll  promise  not  to  tell 
anybody  else."  Julie  looked  obstinate,  though  evi 
dently  a  good  deal  frightened. 

"I'll  promise,  if  the  secret  can  be  kept  without 
hindering  our  investigation.  Agree  to  that,  Gibbs?" 

The  detective  agreed,  and  Julie  went  on. 
"Specially,  I  don't  want  Bob  Moore  to  know.  We're 
engaged  and  he's  awful  particular  about  where  I  go, 
when  he  isn't  along.  And  I've  never  gone  any  place 
or  done  anything  he  wouldn't  want  me  to,  except 
that  very  night.  I  went  with  a  crowd  on  a  trip  to 
Chinatown.  It  wasn't  any  harm,  but  we  were  out 
late,  and  if  he  knew  it,  he'd  give  me  the  dickens. 
You  won't  tell,  will  you?  And,  too,  if  the  manager 
knew  it,  he'd  think  I  was  a  different  sort  of  a  girl 
from  what  I  am.  So,  please  don't  tell." 

"No ;  we  won't  tell,"  promised  Bates.  "Unless,  of 
course,  we  find  you  haven't  told  the  truth,  or  the 
whole  truth, — in  that  case,  you'll  be  shown  up!  I 
never  suspected  any  connection  of  yours  with  the 
whole  matter,  but  if  you've  told  the  truth  just  now, 
it  will  go  no  further.  I  know  you're  not  given  to 
frisking  about,  and  I  think  myself  it's  just  as  well 
Moore  shouldn't  know  of  this  one  occasion.  By  the 
way,  did  you  study  to  be  a  nurse?" 

"I  began  the  course  of  training,  but  the  work  was 
too  hard  for  me  and  I  gave  it  up  the  first  year  and 
took  up  telephoning." 
[ 


One  Woman  and  Another 


"Did  you,"  asked  Gibbs,  suddenly,  "did  you  know 
any  one  else  in  the  hospital,  or  wherever  you  were, 
who  studied  nursing,  and  who  is  in  any  way  con 
nected  with  the  people  interested  in  this  murder?" 

Julie  hesitated  and  her  face  flushed  a  little. 

"I  don't  think  I  ought  to  mention  it, — -—"  she 
began,  and  Gibbs  cried : 

"Of  course  you  ought  to  mention  it!  If  you're 
innocent  it  can  do  you  no  harm,  and  if  the  one  you 
tell  us  of  is  innocent  it  can  do  her  no  harm." 

"But  it  may  stir  up  suspicion  quite  wrongly,"  ob 
jected  the  girl. 

"Then  the  suspicion  will  fall  to  the  ground. 
Don't  be  afraid ;  you  are  only  helping  justice  along. 
If  it's  a  real  help  you  must  give  it,  and  if  not,  it 
won't  be  followed  up." 

But  Richard  Bates  looked  grave. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  Gibbs,"  he  said;  "somebody 
must  have  started  this  trend  toward  my  aunt,  and 
it's  made  me  pretty  miserable  already.  Now,  need 
we  take  up  a  new  trail  with  only  a  sort  of  surmise 
on  this  girl's  part.  For,  surely,  she  is  by  no  means 
ready  to  make  a  positive  accusation." 

"Out  with  it,  Julie,"  commanded  the  detective  with 
no  apparent  notice  of  Bates'  demurrer. 

"Well,  it's  only  this,"  and  Julie  looked  relieved  at 
the  thought  of  unburdening  herself;  "when  I  was  in 
training,  the  girls  used  to  talk  of  Kate  Holland,  who 
was  there  many  years  before,  but  who  seemed  to  be 
a  sort  of  a  star  pupil.  I  don't  remember  much  that 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


they  said,  only  she  was  renowned  for  her  surgical 
skill,  and  when  I  heard  Bob  tell  how  the  murderer 
of  Sir  Binney  was  a  knowing  one,  I  couldn't  help 
thinking  about  her.  You  know  she's  Mrs  Everett's 
maid." 

"Oh,  Lord!"  Bates  groaned,  "don't  drag  the 
Everetts  into  this  thing!  It's  bad  enough  to  have 
my  people  spoken  of  without  attacking  the  Everetts 
too!" 

"Nobody  has  attacked  them  yet,"  said  Gibbs, 
dryly;  "don't  go  too  fast." 

"But  you  will!  You'll  suspect  Kate  because  of 
what  Julie  has  said,  and  then  you'll  go  on  to  Mrs 
Everett  and " 

"H'm, — you  seem  to  inherit  your  aunt's  trait  of 
hasty  speaking.  Better  stop  where  you  are,  Bates. 
Don't  put  ideas  into  my  head!" 

"I  don't  have  to!  You're  all  primed  to  take  up 
this  new  outlook.  I  knew  Julie's  tales  would  upset 
things!  Just  because  Mrs  Everett's  maid  has  had 
training,  doesn't  argue  her  a  murderess !" 

"Nobody  said  it  did!"  exclaimed  Gibbs,  angered 
at  the  young  man's  words,  partly  because  they  were 
so  in  line  with  his  own  thoughts. 

"In  fact,"  and  Bates  looked  very  sober,  "in  fact, 
Gibbs,  I'd  rather  you'd  suspect  my  aunt  than  the 
Everett  crowd!" 

"But  nobody  has  voiced  any  suspicion  of  the 

Everett  crowd " 

[192] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


"You  don't  have  to  voice  it,  for  me  to  know  what 
you  have  in  your  mind " 

"And  that  Kate  Holland  is  a  terrible  woman " 

began  Julie. 

Richard  silenced  her  with  a  look. 

"Julie,"  he  said,  sternly,  "don't  you  dare  mention 
one  word  of  Kate  Holland  in  connection  with  this 
matter!  If  you  do,  I'll  tell  both  Moore  and  the 
house  management  of  your  Chinatown  trip." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Gibbs.  "You're  not  to  mix 
into  this  thing  in  any  way,  Julie.  You  run  along 
now,  and  remember,  it's  just  as  Mr  Bates  said;  if 
you  breathe  a  word  of  anything  you've  heard  or 
said  in  here  with  us,  we'll  show  you  up  good  and 
plenty,  and  we  may  do  a  little  exaggerating,  too !  Is 
it  a  bargain  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  it  is !"  and  Julie  Baxter  went  out  of  the 
room,  glad  to  be  assured  of  the  safety  of  her  own 
secret. 

"Now,  Bates,  you  may  as  well  face  the  music," 
Gibbs  began.  "You  must  know  that  in  the  back  of 
everybody's  head  has  been  an  unspoken  thought  of 
higher  up  people  than  chorus  girls  or  elevator  at 
tendants.  Those  youngsters  don't  commit  murder, 
— such  a  thing  is  unknown.  But  older  women  with 
deeper  motives  must  be  considered.  You  say  you 
want  to  find  the  murderess  in  order  to  relieve  your 
aunt  from  any  hint  of  suspicion.  Do  you  want  to 
do  so  if  the  trail  leads  toward  the  Everett  house 
hold?" 

[  193] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Richard  Bates  seemed  suddenly  to  have  grown 
years  older.  His  good-looking  young  face  turned 
to  an  ashen  hue,  and  his  eyes  were  wild  and  staring. 

His  voice  shook  as  he  replied,  "I  say,  Gibbs,  I 
don't  know  what  I  want !  I'm  knocked  galley-west. 
I  don't  believe  for  the  thousandth  part  of  a  second 
that  either  Miss  Prall  or  Mrs  Everett  have  one  speck 
of  knowledge  of  the  deed,  but  you  know  the  very 
mention  of  their  names  would  be  like  fire  to  tow 
in  the  newspaper  reports." 

"Of  course  it  would.  Yet  what  can  we  do? 
However  much  I  keep  my  investigations  quiet, 
there's  a  gang  of  reporters  nosing  about  everywhere. 
They've  likely  got  hold  of  Julie  already " 

"She  won't  tell  anything." 

"She  won't  mean  to, — but  they'll  frighten  or  trap 
her  into  it.  There's  nothing  so  dangerous  as  a 
woman  with  a  secret  of  her  own  to  guard.  She'll 
babble  of  everything  else." 

"What  do  you  advise?"  Bates  was  clearly  at  the 
end  of  his  rope.  He  was  beseeching  of  manner  and 
despairing  of  tone. 

"Straightforwardness,  first  of  all.  I'm  going  at 
once,  either  to  Miss  Prall  or  to  Mrs  Everett,  and 
make  them  come  across  with  something  definite.  If 
they  don't  know  anything, — I'll  find  that  out,  at 
least." 

"Go  first  to  my  aunt,  then.  Ill  go  with  you, — 
come  along.  Get  all  you  can  out  of  her,  I'm  not  in 
the  least  afraid !" 

[194] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


The  two  men  went  up  to  the  Prall  apartment  and 
Bates  opened  the  door  with  his  own  key. 

"Here's  Mr  Detective,  Aunt  Letty,"  he  said,  try 
ing  to  speak  lightly;  "he  wants  a  little  chatter  with 
you." 

Miss  Prall  looked  up  from  her  book. 

"Be  seated,  Mr  Gibbs,"  she  said,  with  quiet  dig 
nity.  "How  do  you  do?" 

"How  do  you  do?"  the  detective  returned,  not 
quite  at  ease,  in  the  presence  of  her  forbidding  man 
ner.  "I'm  sorry  to  intrude " 

"Then  don't,"  interrupted  Letitia,  her  large, 
strong  face  frowning  at  him.  "Why  make  us  both 
sorry?" 

"Because  it  must  be  done."  Gibbs  gathered  firm 
ness  from  her  own  attitude.  "This  matter  of  the 
murder  of  Sir  Herbert  Binney  is  of  sufficient  im 
portance  not  to  wait  on  convenience  or  pleasure." 

"Quite  right.  And  what  have  you  done  ?  Noth 
ing,  as  usual?  When  one  remembers  that  the  crime 
occurred  nearly  a  week  ago,  and  no  steps  have  yet 
been  taken  to  apprehend  the  criminal " 

"Pardon  me,  Miss  Prall,  many  steps  have  been 
taken,  and  they  have  led  in  a  definite  direction." 

"Good  gracious,  where!"  The  spinster  was 
startled  out  of  her  calm  and  a  look  of  concern  spread 
over  her  face. 

"First,  tell  me  if  you  have  any  suspicions?" 

"I  have  not,  but  if  I  had  I'd  never  tell  you,  so 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


long  as  they  were  merely  suspicions.     If  I  could 
prove  them,  I'd  tell  quick  enough !" 

"But  I  may  help  you  to  prove  them — or  disprove 
them." 

"That's  just  it ;  if  you  disprove  them,  I'm  covered 
with  shame  and  confusion  at  having  hinted  them." 

"All  right,  I'll  do  the  hinting.  Or,  rather,  I'll 
speak  right  out.  What  did  you  do  with  the  paper- 
cutter  from  your  library  table, — I  see  there  is  an 
empty  sheath  still  there?" 

"That?"  and  Miss  Prall  glanced  casually  at  the 
sheath  in  question. 

"The  paper-knife  was  broken  and  I  gave  it  to  Sir 
Herbert  Binney,  who  had  promised  to  get  it  mended 
for  me  at  some  specialty  place  he  knew  of.  Why?" 

"Because  that  was,  probably,  the  weapon  that 
killed  him." 

"If  Gibbs  had  expected  any  sudden  telltale  blush 
or  confusion  on  Miss  Frail's  part,  he  must  have  been 
disappointed,  for  she  only  said : 

"Indeed!    How  could  that  happen?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  the  knife  has  been  found,  in 
peculiar  circumstances,  and  I'd  like  to  know  just 
when  you  gave  it  to  him  to  get  it  mended." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know;  several  days  before  his  death. 
Perhaps  four  or  five  days,  or  a  week.  Go  on." 

"The  knife, — if  that  was  the  one, — was  driven 
into  the  body  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  it  likely  that 
the  hand  that  thrust  it  was  the  hand  of  some  one 

experienced  in  surgical  lore " 

[  196  ] 


One  Woman  and  Another 


"Hah !"  the  exclamation  given  by  Miss  Prall  was 
full  of  meaning.  It  seemed  to  imply  a  sort  of  tri 
umphant  surprise,  a  welcome  knowledge,  a  looked- 
for  and  longed-for  state  of  things. 

"This  gives  strength  to  your  suspicions?"  insinu 
ated  Gibbs. 

"It  does,"  and  the  Grenadier  sat  up  even  straighter 
and  her  face  was  even  more  indicative  of  elation  as 
she  added,  "it  does,  indeed !" 

"And  perhaps  you  will  tell  us  to  whom  your  sus 
picion  points?"  urged  the  detective. 

"That  I  will  do,"  she  declared,  but  Bates  broke 
in  with  a  "Hush,  Aunt  Letitia!  I  command  you 
not  to  speak!" 


1 197  1 


CHAPTER  XIII 
Motives 

I'VE  got  to  speak,  Ricky,"  Miss  Prall  said,  but 
her  tone  was  not  angry  now.  She  seemed  to 
have  changed  her  mood  and  was  half  fright 
ened,  half  sad.  "I've  got  to  speak,  to  save  myself. 
Don't  you  see  that  if  that  paper-cutter  points  to 
wards  me, — as  Mr  Gibbs  implies,  I  must  tell  what 
I  know " 

"What  you  know,"  assented  Bates,  "but  not  what 
you  suspect." 

"Yes,  ma'am,  what  you  suspect,"  directed  the 
detective.  "The  time  has  come,  Miss  Prall,  when 
suspicions  must  be  voiced,  whether  true  or  not,  in 
order  that  we  may  prove  or  disprove  them." 

"Then  get  up  your  own  suspicions,"  cried  Bates. 
"Find  your  own  suspects  and  prove  their  guilt  or 
innocence." 

"We're  doing  that,"  Gibbs  said,  quietly,  "but  we 
necessarily  depend  also  on  the  statements  of  wit 
nesses." 

"But  Miss  Prall  isn't  a  witness." 

"Not  an  eye-witness,  perhaps,  but  a  material  wit 
ness,  if  she  knows  anything  that  we  want  to  know." 
[198] 


Motives 

"She  doesn't  know  anything  you  want  to  know," 
exclaimed  Eliza  Gurney,  coming  into  the  room. 
"But  Kate  Holland  does!  If  you're  anxious  for 
information  get  that  girl  and  quiz  her !" 

"Hush  up,  Eliza,"  stormed  Letitia.  "What  did 
you  learn  in  at  the  Everett's,  Mr  Gibbs  ?" 

"I  learned  that  you  said  you'd  kill  Sir  Herbert 
Binney  yourself,  if  you  were  sure  you  wouldn't  be 
found  out." 

"What !"  Miss  Prall  turned  perfectly  white,  but 
whether  with  rage  or  fear,  Gibbs  didn't  know.  "She 
said  that !  The  little  devil !  Just  let  me  get  at  her, 
once!" 

"Didn't  you  make  that  remark?" 

"I  did  not ;  but  she  did,  and  then,  I  said  I  would, 
too.  Neither  of  us  meant  it,  really,  but  that's  what 
was  said.  The  woman  is  so  clever  it  makes  her 
doubly  dangerous!" 

"But  it's  a  queer  thing  for  two  ladies  to  be  talking 
about  killing  anybody." 

"Nonsense!  It's  done  all  the  time.  It  doesn't 
mean  they'd  really  do  it — though  sometimes  I  have 
thought " 

"Aunt  Letty !"  put  in  Bates,  beseechingly. 

"I  will  speak,  Richard!  Sometimes  I  have 
thought  that  Adeline  Everett  would  be  capable  of — 
of  anything!  Those  sleek,  fat,  complacent  people 
are  the  very  worst  sort !  I  bluster  out  frankly,  but 
oily,  deceitful  woman, — and  that  Kate  of  hers, 
[  199] 


n  the  Onyx  Lobby 


— well,  if  you  want  to  know  my  suspicions, — there 
they  are." 

"Then,  Miss  Prall,"  Gibbs  looked  straight  at  her, 
"here's  the  situation.  Both  you  and  Mrs  Everett 
expressed  a  willingness  to  kill  Sir  Herbert  Binney, — 
no  matter  if  it  was  not  meant.  Both  of  you  may  be 
said  to  have  had  a  motive;  both  of  you  could  have 
found  opportunity.  And,  finally,  each  of  you  claims 
to  suspect  the  other.  Now,  granting  for  argument's 
sake  that  one  of  you  is  guilty,  would  not  the  plaus 
ible  procedure  be  to  pretend  to  suspect  the  other?" 

"Of  course  it  would,"  Eliza  Gurney  declared. 
"And  since  Mrs  Everett  is  the  guilty  party, — I  see  it 
all  now!  She  casts  suspicion  toward  Miss  Prall! 
Of  course,  Mrs  Everett  didn't  do  it  herself,  but  that 
Kate  Holland  did !  She  is  a  fiend  incarnate,  without 
heart  or  soul !  She  is " 

"There,  there,  Eliza,  you'd  better  be  still,"  Miss 
Prall  warned  her.  "If  you  go  on  like  that,  Mr  Gibbs 
will  think  you're  protesting  too  much!" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  that's  just  what  Gibbs  was 
thinking,  and  he  looked  sharply  at  Letitia,  marveling 
at  her  cleverness.  If  she  had  been  instrumental  in 
the  death  of  Sir  Herbert,  surely  this  was  just  the 
way  she  would  conduct  herself.  She  was  deep  as 
well  as  clever,  and  Gibbs  began  to  see  light. 

He  was  convinced  now  that  the  criminals  were  of 
a  more  subtle  type  than  young  girls  in  their  teens 
could  possibly  be,  and  the  affair,  to  his  thinking,  was 
[  200  ] 


Motives 

narrowed  down  to  the  households  of  these  two 
women  who  were  each  other's  enemies. 

He  reasoned  that  the  only  way  to  learn  anything 
from  such  dissemblers  as  they  all  were,  was  to  catch 
them  off  their  guard,  and  he  greatly  desired  to  get 
the  rival  factions  together,  in  order  that  anger  or 
spite  might  cause  one  or  other  to  disclose  her  secret. 

"Perhaps,"  Gibbs  said,  "it  might  be  well  for  us 
to  go  to  Mrs  Everett,  or  send  for  her  to  come  here, 
and  so  get  the  testified  statement  as  to  these  asser 
tions  of  willingness  to  kill.  I  don't  think  they're 
customary  among  the  women  of  your  class." 

"You  doubt  my  word!"  flared  up  Letitia  Prall. 
"Let  me  tell  you,  Mr  Gibbs,  that  I  refuse  to  have  it 
corroborated  by  that  woman !  I  tell  you  the  truth, — 
she  is  incapable  of  that!" 

"That's  why  I  want  to  give  you  a  chance  to  refute 
her,  to  deny  her  to  her  face " 

"Never'!  I  don't  want  to  see  her!  She  shall  not 
enter  my  door !  Her  very  presence  is  contaminating ! 
Adeline  Everett !  She  is  a  slanderer " 

"Wait  a  moment,  Miss  Prall.  What  she  has  said 
of  you,  you  have  also  said  of  her!" 

"But  I  speak  truth ;  she  tells  falsehoods.  Nobody 
ever  believes  a  word  she  says !" 

"Of  course  not!"  chimed  in  Eliza.  "Adeline 
Everett  is  a  whited  sepulcher, — a  living  lie!" 

Even  more  belligerent  than  the  words  was  the  tone 
and  the  facial  expression  of  the  speaker.  Miss  Gur- 
ney  was  not  a  beautiful  woman  at  best,  and  her  rage 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


transformed  her  into  a  veritable  termagant.  Her 
sparse  gray  hair  fell  in  wisps  about  her  ears  and  her 
head  shook  in  emphasis  of  her  objurgations,  while 
her  pale  blue  eyes  blinked  with  fury  as  she  strove 
to  find  words  harsh  enough. 

"Eliza!"  and  Miss  Frail's  warning  tone  was  quiet 
but  very  stern.  "Stop  that !  You  only  make  mat 
ters  worse  by  going  on  so!  If  you  can't  keep  still, 
leave  the  room." 

Eliza  sniffed,  but  ceased  her  talk  for  the  moment, 
at  least. 

"Now,  Miss  Prall,"  Gibbs  resumed,  "it  is  neces 
sary,  in  my  opinion,  to  have  an  interview  at  which 
both  yourself  and  Mrs  Everett  are  present.  I  have 
a  right  to  ask  this,  and  I  offer  you  the  choice  of 
going  there,  or  sending  for  her  to  come  here." 

"I  won't  do  either,"  snapped  Letitia.  "I  refuse  to 
go  to  her  home,  and  I  certainly  shall  not  let  her 
enter  mine." 

"But,  don't  you  see  that  is  most  damaging  to  your 
own  side  of  the  story." 

"What  do  I  care?  Don't  think  you  can  frighten 
me,  young  man!  Letitia  Prall  is  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  herself." 

"That  may  be,  but  you  are  not  able  to  defy,  suc 
cessfully,  the  course  of  the  law.  If  I  insist  on  this 
interview,  I  think,  Miss  Prall,  you  will  be  obliged  to 
consent." 

"And  if  I  refuse?" 

"Then,  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you,  your  refusal  must 
[  202  ] 


Motives 

be  set  aside,  and  you  will,  I  am  sure,  see  the  advisa 
bility  of  accepting  the  situation." 

"Oh,  come,  Auntie/'  said  Bates,  "you're  making 
a  lot  of  unnecessary  trouble.  Neither  you  nor  Mrs 
Everett  had  any  hand  in  this  murder, — the  mere 
idea  is  ridiculous!  and  if  you  have  the  interview  Mr 
Gibbs  wants,  it  will  soon  be  over  and  then  you  will 
both  be  freed  from  suspicion  and  can  go  on  with 
your  silly  'feud.'  That  is  a  foolish  thing,  but 
trivial.  This  other  matter  is  serious.  You  must  get 
it  over  with  at  once, — for  all  our  sakes." 

"I  won't."  And  Miss  Prall  set  her  lips  ob 
stinately. 

Gibbs  rose  abruptly  and  left  the  room. 

"He's  gone  for  Mrs  Everett,"  said  Richard,  look 
ing  severely  at  his  aunt.  "Now,  you  must  be  care 
ful,  Aunt  Letty.  If  you  don't  look  out,  they'll 
accuse  you  of  the  murder,  and  though  you'll  disprove 
it,  it  will  mean  a  whole  lot  of  trouble  for  us  all." 

Letitia  Prall  adored  her  nephew,  and,  too,  she  saw 
there  was  no  use  of  trying  to  avoid  the  meeting  with 
Mrs  Everett.  It  was  bound  to  be  brought  about, 
sooner  or  later,  by  the  determined  Gibbs,  and  it 
might  as  well  be  gone  through  with. 

She  sat  still,  thinking  what  attitude  it  was  best 
to  assume,  and  she  decided  on  continued  silence. 

"Eliza,"  she  warned,  "don't  talk  too  much.  You'll 
get  us  in  an  awful  predicament  if  you're  so  free 
with  your  tongue.  First  thing  you  know,  you'll 

tell " 

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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Hush,  they're  coming!"  and  in  a  moment  Gibbs 
rang  the  bell. 

Richard  admitted  him,  and  with  him  came  both 
Adeline  Everett  and  the  maid,  Kate. 

"I  didn't  invite  your  servant,"  was  Miss  Frail's 
only  word  of  greeting,  accompanied  by  a  scathing 
glance  at  Kate. 

"You  didn't  invite  me,"  Mrs  Everett  returned, 
pertly,  "and  I  shouldn't  have  come  if  you  had,  ex 
cept  that  I  was  commanded  to  appear  by  a  repre 
sentative  of  the  law.  I  don't  see,  though,  why  I 
should  be  mixed  up  in  your  murder  case." 

"It  isn't  my  murder  case  any  more  than  it  is 
yours,  Adeline  Everett,"  her  enemy  faced  her.  "I 
understand  you're  suspected  of  being " 

"Oh,  don't,  Aunt  Letitia,"  begged  Richard,  who 
was  always  distressed  if  obliged  to  be  present  when 
the  two  "got  going,"  as  Eliza  called  it.  "Now, 
please,  auntie, — please,  Mrs  Everett,  can't  you  two 
forget  your  private  enmity  for  a  few  minutes  and 
just  settle  this  big  matter?  Disarm  the  suspicions 
of  Mr  Gibbs  by  telling  the  truth,  by  stating  where 
you  all  were  at  the  time  of  the  murder,  and  so,  get 
yourselves  out  of  all  touch  with  it.  Truly,  you  will 
be  sorry  if  you  don't.  You  don't  realize  what  it 
will  mean  if  you  have  to  be  mixed  up  in  all  sorts  of 
witness  stands  and  things." 

"Go  ahead,  Mr  Gibbs,"  and  Miss  Prall  glared  at 
the  detective.    "We  owe  this  unpleasant  scene  to.  you, 
— make  it  as  short  as  possible." 
[204] 


Motives 

"I  will,"  and  Gibbs'  sharp  eyes  darted  from  one 
face  to  another,  for  this  was  his  harvest  time,  and 
though  he  expected  to  learn  little  from  the  wily 
women's  speech,  he  hoped  for  much  from  their  un 
controllable  outbursts  of  anger  or  their  involuntary 
admissions. 

It  was  a  strange  gathering.  Letitia  Prall  sat  on  a 
straight-backed  chair,  erect  and  still ;  but  looking  like 
a  leashed  tiger,  ready  to  spring. 

Beside  her,  trying  hard  to  keep  quiet,  was  Eliza 
Gurney,  small,  pale,  and  with  a  distracted  face  and 
angry  eyes  that  darted  venomous  glances  at  the  vis 
itors. 

Mrs  Everett  had  chosen  for  her  role  an  amused 
superiority,  knowing  it  would  irritate  Letitia  Prall 
more  than  any  other  manner.  She  smiled  and 
quickly  suppressed  it,  she  stared  and  then  dropped 
her  eyes  and  she  would  impulsively  begin  to  say 
something  and  then  discreetly  pause. 

All  this  Gibbs  took  in  and  Richard,  seeing  the 
detective's  interest,  became  alarmed.  He  felt  sure 
there  was  something  sinister  concealed  in  the  minds 
of  some  or  all  of  the  women  present  and  his  heart 
sank  at  the  possible  outcome  of  things. 

It  was  inconceivable  that  his  aunt  was  in  any  way 
concerned  in  the  murder,  yet  it  was  even  worse  to 
imagine  the  mother  of  Dorcas  mixed  up  in  it.  Of 
course,  it  couldn't  be  that  either  of  them  was  really 
implicated,  but  he  had  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
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In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Gibbs  was  sufficiently  convinced  of  such  implication 
to  call  this  confab. 

And  it  was  a  confab.  The  detective  did  not  ask 
direct  questions,  but  rather  brought  out  voluntary 
remarks  by  adroitly  suggesting  them. 

"Now,  that  paper-knife "  he  began,  musingly. 

"Is  what  they  call  a  clue,"  said  Mrs  Everett.  "I 
(know  nothing  of  such  things, — I  can't  bear  detective 
stories,  but  if  a  paper-knife  was  used  to  kill  some 
body,  I  should  think  the  owner  of  the  weapon  must 
be  more  or  less  suspected." 

"Of  course  you  think  that,  because  you're  sus 
pected  yourself,"  said  Letitia,  coldly ;  "naturally  you 
think  you  can  cast  suspicion  toward  me,  but  you 
can't,  Adeline  Everett !  I  gave  that  paper-cutter  to 
Sir  Herbert  to  get  it  mended " 

"Oho!  Is  that  the  story  you've  trumped  up! 
Clever,  my  dear,  but  too  thin.  Can't  you  see,  Mr 
Gibbs,  that  that  is  a  made-up  yarn?  She  knows  Sir 
Herbert  can't  deny  it,  and  no  one  else  can.  So 
she  thinks  she's  safe !" 

"Well,  she  isn't,"  and  Kate  Holland  gave  Miss 
Prall  a  triumphant  glare.  "That  knife  will  hang 
her  yet !  She  not  only  tried  to  make  up  a  plausible 
story  about  the  thing,  but  she  tried  to  fasten  the 
guilt  on  me  by  saying  I  have  surgical  skill !  Ha,  ha, 
— because  I  took  a  nurse's  training, — I'm  to  be  sus 
pected  of  murder !  A  fine  how-do-you-do !  Let  me 
tell  you,  Miss  Prall,  you  overreached  yourself !  I've 
been  to  see  Dr  Pagett  about  it,  and  he  says  that 
[206] 


Motives 

while  the  fatal  stroke  may  have  been  delivered  by 
somebody  who  knew  just  where  to  strike,  yet,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  might  have  been  the  merest  ignor 
amus,  who  chanced  to  strike  the  vital  point!  So, 
your  ladyship,  your  scheme  to  inculpate  me  falls 
through!" 

Gibbs  listened  eagerly,  gathering  the  news  of  Dr 
Pagett's  decision,  and  learning,  too,  that  this  maid 
of  Mrs  Everett's  was  of  a  far  higher  mentality  than 
the  average  servant. 

"I  scorn  to  reply,"  Miss  Prall  said,  looking  over 
the  head  of  the  triumphant  Kate.  "I  do  not  con 
verse  with  servants." 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  well  to  dismiss  both  my  ser 
vant  and  yours,"  drawled  Mrs  Everett,  maliciously. 
"Let  Kate  and  Eliza  both  leave  the  room." 

"I'm  no  servant!"  cried  Miss  Gurney,  bristling; 
"I'm  Miss  Frail's  companion,  quite  her  equal  -  " 

"And  think  yourself  her  superior,"  interrupted 
Mrs.  Everett,  with  her  most  annoying  chuckle. 
"Well,  Eliza,  I  look  upon  you  as  just  as  much  a  ser 
vant  as  my  Kate,  —  more  so,  indeed,  for  you  can't 
hold  a  candle  to  Kate  for  intelligence,  education 


"Or  viciousness,"  Letitia  broke  in.  "Now,  Mr 
Gibbs,  I  decline  to  talk  to  or  with  either  of  my  un 
welcome  visitors.  If  you  have  to  conduct  this  official 
inquisition,  go  on  with  it,  but  I  refuse  to  speak 
except  to  answer  your  questions.  Eliza,  you  are  not 
to  talk,  either." 

[207] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Good !"  said  Gibbs,  "just  what  I  want."  And  he 
spoke  sincerely,  for  he  began  to  see  that  he  would 
learn  little  from  the  display  of  rancor  and  temper 
that  moved  them  all. 

He  put  definite  and  straightforward  questions, 
and  elicited  the  information  that  they  were  all  in 
their  beds  and  asleep  at  the  hour  of  the  murder. 
This  could  not  be  corroborated  from  the  very,  nature 
of  things,  but  he  let  it  pass. 

There  was  fierce  disagreement  as  to  which  had 
first  declared  a  willingness  to  kill  Sir  Herbert  Bin- 
ney,  and  which  had  said  she,  too,  was  inclined  to  the 
deed,  but  it  was  admitted  that  such  hasty  and  un- 
considered  declarations  had  been  made. 

In  fact,  the  gist  of  the  long  and  difficult  grilling 
was  an  apparent  determination  on  the  part  of  each 
one  of  the  two  factions  to  accuse  the  other,  and  a 
most  plausible  and  complacent  assumption  of  inno 
cence  by  both. 

This  seemed  a  non-committal  situation,  but  Gibbs 
did  not  deem  it  such.  He  was  definitely  persuaded 
as  to  the  guilty  party,  and  his  satisfied  nods  and 
approving  smiles  showed  Richard  Bates  plainly 
which  way  the  detective's  opinions  leaned. 

And  the  young  man  was  thoroughly  frightened. 
Though,  for  his  part,  it  would  be  a  difficult  matter 
to  make  a  preference  between  the  belief  in  the  guilt 
of  his  aunt  or  the  guilt  of  the  mother  of  the  girl 
he  loved. 

And  the  trend  of  Gibbs'  investigation  led  surely 
[208] 


Motives 

to  one  or  the  other.  The  use  of  the  paper-cutter 
that  Miss  Prall  admitted  having  given  into  Sir 
Herbert's  keeping  gave  wide-spread  opportunity. 
Any  one  desiring  to  kill  the  man  had  a  means  pro 
vided,  that  is,  reasoning  that  Sir  Herbert  had  the 
knife  with  him  for  the  purpose  of  getting  it  mended. 

Again,  that  story  might  be  pure  fabrication,  in 
which  case  the  suspicion  swung  back  to  Miss  Prall 
and  Eliza. 

It  was  Gibbs'  theory  that  the  unintelligible  letters 
of  the  dead  man's  message  implied  two  women  and 
the  attempted  direction  was  to  get  both.  This,  he 
argued,  meant  either  Miss  Prall  and  Eliza  Grundy  or 
Mrs  Everett  and  her  faithful  aide,  Kate  Holland. 

It  seemed  to  him  that  the  case  narrowed  itself 
down  to  these  women,  either  pair  of  which  had  both 
motive  and  opportunity. 

The  affair  between  Bates  and  Dorcas  was,  of 
course,  known  to  both  guardians,  though  they  tried 
to  disbelieve  it,  and  probably  didn't  know  to  what 
lengths  it  had  already  gone.  But  Mrs  Everett  knew 
that  Sir  Herbert  approved  the  match  and  doubtless 
feared  that  her  modern  and  up-to-date  daughter 
might  take  the  reins  in  her  own  hands.  Therefore 
her  desire  to  have  Sir  Herbert  removed  was  explain 
able.  She  felt  sure  that  without  his  Uncle's  in 
sistence  on  Richard's  entering  the  Bun  business,  the 
young  man  would  return  to  his  inventions  and  so 
forget  Dorcas  in  his  work.  At  least,  that's  the 
nearest  Gibbs  could  come  to  her  motive,  though  he 
[209] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


felt  sure  there  was  more  to  be  learned  regarding 
that.  Mrs  Everett  was  deep  and  very  plausible  of 
manner.  She  had,  he  knew,  underlying  motives  and 
hidden  capabilities  that  would  lead  her,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  Amazonian  Kate,  anywhere. 

On  the  other  hand,  Miss  Frail  wanted  the  old 
man  out  of  the  say,  so  that  her  nephew  would  lack 
his  advice  and  assistance  concerning  the  affair  with 
Dorcas,  and  the  aunt  felt  that,  with  Sir  Herbert  out 
of  it,  she  could  easily  persuade  Richard  to  return  to 
the  great  work  in  which  he  was  so  deeply  interested 
and  forget  the  girl.  Moreover,  she  knew  that  Mrs 
Everett,  no  more  desiring  the  marriage  of  the  young 
people  than  she  did  herself,  was  planning  to  move 
away,  and  then  all  would  be  well. 

The  motives  were  not  altogether  clear,  but,  Gibbs 
reasoned,  there  must  be  many  points  that  were  hid 
den  and  would  remain  so,  with  these  clever  women  to 
guard  them. 

He  tactfully  tried  to  draw  them  out,  but  with  even 
greater  tact  they  evaded  and  eluded  his  questions 
and  contradicted  each  other  and  occasionally, — and 
purposely, — themselves,  until  the  detective  began  to 
think  the  determined  masculine  mind  is  no  match  for 
the  equally  determined  Eternal  Feminine. 

Indeed,  involuntarily  and  almost  unconsciously, 
they  joined  forces  against  him,  and  presently  found 
themselves  aiding  each  other,  which,  when  they 
realized  it,  made  them  more  angry, — if  possible, — 
than  before. 

At  last  Mrs  Everett  looked  at  her  watch. 
[210] 


Motives 

"I've  an  appointment  that  I'm  anxious  to  keep," 
she  said,  drawlingly;  "as  you  don't  seem  to  be  get 
ting  anywhere,  Mr  Detective,  can  you  not  let  me  go, 
and  finish  up  this  absorbing  discussion  with  Miss 
Prall?" 

"You're  quite  mistaken  in  assuming  that  I'm  not 
getting  anywhere,  Mrs  Everett,"  returned  the  nettled 
detective,  "but  you  may  go  if  you  wish.  In  fact,  I 
allow  it,  because  I  have  learned  about  all  there  is  to 
learn, — not  so  insignificant  an  amount  as  you  im- 
ply." 

Mrs  Everett  looked  at  him  sharply  and  was  mo 
mentarily  disconcerted  enough  to  gasp  out: 

"Oh,  have  you  a  clue?" 

"Several,"  Gibbs  returned,  carelessly.  "Nothing 
that  I  care  to  make  known,  but  I've  found  out' 
enough  to  set  me  on  the  right  track." 

Covertly  he  watched  the  faces  to  see  how  this 
struck  the  two  principals. 

With  little  result,  for  Mrs  Everett,  regaining  her 
poise,  merely  smiled  in  an  exasperating  way,  and 
Miss  Prall  looked  coldly  disinterested. 

"Wonderful  characters,"  Gibbs  commented  to 
himself,  for  he  had  never  before  met  women  who 
could  so  perfectly  hide  their  feelings. 

And  he  was  sure  that  one  of  them,  at  least,  was 
hiding  her  emotion;  that  one  of  them  was  really 
aghast  at  the  thought  of  exposure  and  was  trying 
with  all  her  powers  to  conceal  her  dismay. 

The  maid,  Kate,  and  the  companion,  Eliza,  merely 
mirrored  the  other's  calm.  Eliza,  glancing  at  Miss 
[211] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Prall,  took  her  cue  and  looked  disdainful  of  the 
whole  affair.  Kate  Holland  curled  a  scornful  lip  and 
nodded  her  head  in  Miss  Frail's  direction. 

And  yet,  if  one  pair  were  guilty  the  other  two 
were  innocent.  Collusion  between  the  two  factions 
was  unthinkable.  But  Gibbs  had  made  up  his  mind, 
and  he  rose  and  opened  the  door. 
-  "If  you  must  keep  your  appointment,  Madame, 
you  are  excused.  I  may  say  that  you  are  under  sur 
veillance,  but  I  have  little  fear  of  your  trying  to  get 
away  secretly,  and  unless  you  do,  you  will  not  be 
bothered  in  any  way." 

"Your  surveillance  does  not  interest  me,"  and, 
with  a  sublime  disregard  of  all  present,  Mrs  Everett 
swept  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  the  large  and 
somewhat  ungainly  Kate. 

"I  don't  want  to  discuss  this  thing,"  Gibbs  began, 
as  he  himself  prepared  to  leave, — "but " 

"I  don't  want  to  discuss  it  either,"  said  Bates,  and 
his  tone  was  full  of  indignation.  "There  is  no  room 
for  discussion  after  this  asinine  performance  of 
yours!  You're  not  fit  to  be  a  detective!  You  get 
some  ladies  together  and  badger  them  into  all  sorts 
of  thoughtless,  unmeant  admissions  and  call  that 
testimony !  I'm  surprised  at  you,  Gibbs.  And  I  tell 
you  frankly  what  I  mean  to  do.  I'm  going  out, — 
right  now, — to  get  a  detective  who  can  detect!  A 
man  who  knows  the  first  principles  of  the  business, 
— which  you  don't  even  seem  to  dream  of !  I've  had 
enough  of  your  futile  questioning,  your  unfounded 
suspicions,  your  absurd  deductions !  I'm  off !" 
[212] 


CHAPTER  XIV 
Penny  Wise 

WHEN  Richard  set  out  to  do  a  thing,  he  did 
it,    and    without    consulting    anybody    he 
went  at  once  for  Pennington  Wise,  the  de 
tective,  and  by  good  luck,  succeeding  in  obtaining 
the  services  of  that  astute  investigator. 

Bates  told  him  the  whole  story,  and  Wise  saw  at 
once  that  though  the  young  man  was  fearful  of  his 
aunt's  implication  in  the  matter,  he  was  even  more 
alarmed  at  the  idea  of  his  sweetheart's  mother  being 
brought  into  it. 

"I  look  at  it  this  way,"  Bates  said ;  "Mrs  Everett 
and  Miss  Prall  are  so  bitterly  at  enmity,  that  either 
of  them  would  be  willing  to  further  a  suspicion  of 

the  other.    I  know  neither  was  really  guilty " 

'  "Wait  a  minute,"  put  in  Wise,  "how  do  you  know 
that?" 

"Oh,  I  know  they  couldn't  be!    They're — they're 

ladies " 

"That  doesn't  deny  the  possibility, — what  else  ?" 
"Why,  —  they,  —  oh,  they're  women,  —  women 
couldn't  do  a  thing  like  that !" 

"But,  'women'  did  do  it, — according  to  your 
story." 

[213] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Of  course;  but  it  must  have  been  a  lower  class 
of  women, — not  ladies,  like  my  aunt  and  Mrs 
Everett." 

"Is  that  'feud'  of  which  you've  told  me,  a  dis 
tinctly  ladylike  performance?" 

"No;  it  isn't.    It's  a " 

"I  gather,  from  your  report  of  it,  it's  a  regular 
old-fashioned  hair-pulling  sort  of  feminine  spiteful- 
ness." 

"That's  just  what  it  is ;  and  it  is  in  bad  taste  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  But  murder!  That's  differ 
ent!" 

"Of  course  it's  different,  and  must  be  treated 
differently.  If  your  aunt's  name  is  so  much  as 
hinted  at  in  connection  with  crime,  you  must  clear 
it, — if  possible.  Here  we  have  a  murder, — a  mys 
terious  murder.  The  police  have  been  notified,  that 
puts  it  into  the  public's  hands.  You  can't  afford  to 
hold  back  anything  now.  Nor  can  you  afford  to 
conceal  or  gloss  over  anything.  That  would  be  to 
invite  suspicion.  Absolute  frankness  on  your  part 
and  on  the  part  of  your  aunt  is  imperative." 

"You'll  get  it  from  me,  but  Solomon  himself 
couldn't  understand  my  aunt  if  she  chose  to  be 
secretive." 

"Why  should  she  be  secretive?" 

"Oh,  it's  such  a  mix-up,  Mr  Wise.     You'll  see 
when  you  meet  the  two  women.     Either  of  them 
would  do  or  say  anything, — anything  at  all,  if  it 
would  annoy  or  disturb  the  other." 
[214] 


Penny  Wise 

"I  think  I  understand,  but  I  think  I  can  discrim 
inate  between  the  truth  and  the  pretense." 

"You'll  be  pretty  smart  if  you  can,"  Richard 
sighed.  "But  get  busy  as  soon  as  possible.  Can  you 
get  over  to-day  ?" 

"Yes;  and  I  must  bring  my  assistant, — a  young 
lady." 

"You're  to  use  Sir  Herbert  Binney's  rooms. 
Where  shall  I  put  the  girl?" 

"Is  there  a  matron  or  housekeeper?  Yes?  Then 
the  girl  will  attend  to  all  that  herself.  Don't  bother." 

"All  right,  I  won't.  Now,  see  here,  Mr  Wise,  I 
want  you  to  get  at  the  truth,  of  course,  but — if  it 
leads " 

"Stop  right  there,  Mr  Bates.  If  I  take  this  case, 
it's  to  get  the  truth,  no  matter  where  it  leads.  You've 
mentioned  the  two  women  most  important  in  your 
life, — oh,  yes,  I  see  the  importance  of  Mrs  Everett. 
You  are,  you  must  be,  interested  in  her  daughter, 
for  you  showed  it  in  your  face  when  you  spoke  her 
name.  Now,  so  far,  I've  nothing  to  connect  those 
two  women  with  the  case,  except  that  they  are 
women,  and  the  written  paper  accuses  women.  I 
believe  that  paper  implicitly.  I've  had  wide  experi 
ence  and  no  word  of  his  murderer  left  by  a  dying 
victim  is  ever  anything  but  the  truth.  I  must  see 
the  paper  as  soon  as  I  can;  it  may  be  informative. 
But,  remember,  the  processes  of  justice  are  inex 
orable, — where  the  truth  leads,  I  must  follow,  abso 
lutely  irrespective  of  personal  prejudice." 
[215] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"If  you're  sure  it  is  the  truth- 


"Right.  I  must  be  sure,  beyond  all  doubt.  And 
I  will  be  before  I  make  any  important  decisions. 
You  are  solt  heir?" 

"Yes,  except  for  some  minor  bequests." 

"Suspicion  hasn't  attacked  you?" 

Bates  started  at  the  question,  but  Pennington 
Wise  seemed  to  think  it  a  casual  one,  so  Richard 
replied,  frankly,  "No,  it  hasn't, — and  I  rather  ex 
pected  it." 

"Yes,  it  would  not  be  strange.  While,  as  I  say,  I 
believe,  so  far  as  I  know  now,  that  women  killed 
him,  yet  others  may  feel  the  written  message  is 
faked." 

"Oh,  it's  positively  Sir  Herbert's  writing;  it 
doesn't  need  an  expert  to  see  that." 

"Were  it  not  for  the  message,  I  should  be  inclined 
to  look  into  his  business  relations." 

"I  think  that's  the  reason  he  wrote  the  note.  My 
uncle  was  a  quick  thinker,  and  I  can  see  how,  know 
ing  he  must  die,  he  did  all  he  could  to  assist  justice. 
I've  no  doubt  he  realized  that  attention  would  be 
turned  toward  men,  and  he  wrote  the  truth,  as  far 
as  he  had  strength  to  do  so,  in  order  to  facilitate 
the  work  of  his  avengers.  Without  doubt  he  was 
intending  to  write  the  names  of  his  murderers  when 
his  muscles  or  his  brain  power  gave  out." 

"That's  the  way  I  see  it,  but  I  can't  be  sure  till  I 
see  the  paper.  There  are  many  motives  for  mur 
der,  but  they  can  all  be  classed  as  affairs  of  the 
[216] 


Penny  Wise 

heart,  the  mind  or  the  purse.  The  first  class  takes 
in  all  love  interests;  the  second,  business  deals,  and 
the  third,  robbery.  The  last,  I  understand,  we  may 
eliminate;  the  second  seems  to  be  knocked  out  by 
that  message,  and  we  come  back  to  some  affair  of  the 
heart,  which  may  not  be  love,  but  jealousy,  revenge 
or  a  sudden,  impulsive  quarrel.  To  look  for  the 
women  is  not  an  easy  task,  but  it  is  a  help  to  be 
started  in  the  right  direction." 

And  so,  Penny  Wise  established  himself  in  the 
comfortable  rooms  lately  occupied  by  the  victim  of 
the  crime  he  was  to  investigate,  and  Zizi,  his  capable 
and  picturesque  assistant,  found  her  quarters  in  the 
domain  of  the  housekeeper. 

Mrs  Macey  was  a  shrewd,  capable  woman,  or  she 
would  not  have  been  housekeeper  at  The  Campanile. 
She  looked  in  cold  disdain  at  the  glowing  little  face 
of  the  girl  who  unceremoniously  invaded  her  room, 
and  stared  with  increasing  interest  as  the  visitor 
talked. 

"You  see,"  Zizi  said,  nodding  her  correctly  hatted 
little  head,  "I've  just  simply  got  to  be  taken  in  some 
where  in  the  house,  and  it  might  as  well  be  here. 
I'm  too  young  to  have  an  apartment  by  myself,  and 
I'll  promise  you  won't  regret  any  'small  kindnesses' 
you  may  show  me.  In  fact,  Mr  Pennington  Wise, 
my  sponsor  in  baptism,  is  the  greatest  rememberer  of 
small  kindnesses  you  ever  saw!" 

"My  goodness !"  remarked  Mrs  Macey,  dazzled  by 
[217] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


the  girl's  beauty  and  animation,  and  bewildered  by 
her  insistent  manner. 

"Yep,"  sauced  Zizi,  with  her  irresistible  smile, 
"it's  your  goodness  that'll  turn  the  trick.  I'll  confide 
to  you  that  I'm  here  on  business,  most  important 
secret  business,  and  if  your  goodness  pans  out  well 
and  you  put  me  up  properly,  you'll  be  what  is  known 
as  handsomely  rewarded.  So,  which  is  my  room?" 

The  girl  whirled  through  a  doorway  and  spied  a 
neat  little  bedroom.  "This'll  do,"  she  said,  and 
setting  down  her  small  handbag  proceeded  to  push 
things  around  on  the  dresser  and  fling  her  gloves 
and  veil  into  a  drawer,  then  with  what  was  indubita 
bly  a  farewell  smile,  she  gently  pushed  Mrs  Macey 
out,  and  closed  the  door  after  her,  pausing  only  to 
say,  "You've  good  horse  sense, — use  it." 

"So  far,  so  good,"  commented  Zizi,  to  her  pretty 
reflection  in  the  mirror.  "That  woman's  a  joy. 
Easily  managed,  but  full  of  initiative.  Just  the  sort 
I  like." 

She  flew  around,  adjusting  the  appointments  to 
suit  her  taste;  she  telephoned  downstairs  for  her 
further  luggage  to  be  sent  up,  and  soon  she  was  as 
fully  established  in  the  room  as  if  she  had  been  there 
weeks. 

"And  now,"  she  spoke  finally  to  the  pretty  girl  in 
her  mirror,  "I  shall  sally  forth,  as  they  call  it,  and 
see  what's  what  in  The  Campanile." 

Her  progress  through  the  house  was  so  in 
conspicuous  and  casual  that  no  one  noticed  her 
[218] 


Penny  Wise 

especially.  It  was  Zizi's  forte  to  go  around  un 
noticed,  when  she  chose.  Though  she  could,  on  the 
other  hand,  make  a  decided  stir,  merely  by  her  ap 
pearance. 

A  slender  wisp  of  a  girl,  black  of  hair  and  eyes, 
demure  without  self -consciousness,  and  gentle- 
mannered,  she  glided  here  and  there  as  she  listed  and 
none  said  her  nay.  She  quickly  learned  the  location 
of  rooms  and  people,  the  ways  of  the  house  and  cer 
tain  of  its  tenants,  and,  without  effort,  made  friends 
with  elevator  girls  and  other  employees. 

She  arrived  at  last  at  the  Binney  rooms,  now  oc 
cupied  by  Wise. 

He  was  not  in  then  and  she  found  a  chambermaid 
dusting  about. 

"I  belong  here,"  Zizi  said,  quietly.  "I  am  Mr 
Wise's  assistant;  and,  as  he  has  doubtless  already 
told  you,  you  are  not  to  chatter  about  him  or  myself. 
We  are  here  on  important  business  matters  and  if 
you  carry  tales  you  will  get  into  serious  trouble. 
Do  you  see?" 

"Yes,  miss,"  said  the  woman,  impressed  by  Zizi's 
air  of  wisdom  and  authority.  "Mr  Wise  told  me 
the  same." 

"Very  well,  then ;  go  on  with  your  work." 

Zizi  began  forthwith  to  study  the  rooms.  She 
found  little  of  interest,  for  Sir  Herbert  had  lived  in 
them  but  a  few  months  and  had  not  cared  to  add  any 
personal  comforts  or  luxuries  to  those  provided  by 
the  management.  Therefore,  the  appointments 
[219] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


were  the  conventional  ones  of  furnished  apartments, 
and  were  quickly  passed  over  by  the  girl,  who  was 
looking  for  stray  bits  of  evidence. 

She  didn't  go  through  the  papers  and  letters  still 
on  the  writing  table,  for  she  felt  sure  they  had  been 
examined  over  and  over  by  the  police  detectives  and 
probably  by  Wise  himself. 

She  was  musing  when  the  detective  came  in. 

"Caught  on  to  anything,  Zizi  ?"  he  asked. 

"Nope;  that  is,  only  one  small  hint  of  a  possible 
question  to  be  asked, — later.  Where  are  you  ?" 

"Progressing  with  the  opening  chapter.  That's 
about  all.  But  it's  a  corker  of  a  case.  I've  seen  the 
paper  left  by  the  dying  man,  and  I'd  stake  my  repu 
tation  that  it's  the  real  thing.  I  mean  that  it  is  the 
dying  statement  of  a  murdered  man  and  was  \vritten 
in  a  desperate  effort  to  help  along  the  discovery  of 
his  murderers.  If  he'd  only  been  able  to  go  on  with 
it  and  tell  the  names !" 

"Then  there  wouldn't  have  been  any  case,  and  we 
wouldn't  be  here.  Go  on,  Wiseacre." 

"Well,  the  two  women  at  feud, — I  told  you  of 
them, — are  great !  Miss  Prall,  spinster,  and  aggres 
sively  unmarried,  loathes  and  despises  Mrs  Everett, 
a  fascinating  widow." 

"Fascinating  to  whom?" 

"Dunno.  Except  to  herself.  But  she's  the  dressy 
sort  and  is  a  blonde  cat,  while  the  Prall  person  is — 
well,  I  understand  they  call  her  the  Grenadier." 

"Who  calls  her  that?" 

[  220  ] 


Penny  Wise 

"Dunno.     It's  in  the  air." 

"How  about  these  two  women  being  the  women 
meant  on  the  paper  message?" 

"No.  I  thought  of  that,  but  I  can't  see  yet  how 
they  could  have  joined  forces,  even  though  they  both 
wanted  the  old  chap  out  of  the  way.  Nor  can  I 
connect  them  with  the  case  separately, — as  yet.  But 
it  seems  to  me  that  one  faction  or  the  other  must 
be  at  fault,  for  there  are  no  other  women  on  the 
horizon." 

"Chorus  girls  ?     Elevator  girls  ?" 

"I  can't  see  it.  To  be  sure,  I've  only  dipped  into 
things  so  far,  but  the  crime  is  so  skillfully  planned 
and  carried  out " 

"It  might  have  been  impulsive  and  unpremedi 
tated " 

"At  the  time  it  happened,  yes.  I  mean,  it  may 
not  have  been  planned  for  that  moment,  but  it  was 
planned  beforehand  and  the  criminal  sprang  to  take 
his  chance  when  it  offered." 

"Her  chance." 

"I  use  the  common  pronoun.  When  I  say  his  or 
him,  I  merely  mean  the  hand  that  struck  the  blow." 

"Have  you  seen  the  paper, — the  message?" 

"I  have  it  with  me." 

Wise  produced  the  glass-protected  paper  and  to 
gether  they  studied  the  writing. 

"It's  positively  Binney's,"  Wise  declared.  "I've 
compared  lots  of  his  writing  with  it,  and  it's  surely 
his.  Again,  it  was  surely  written  at  the  moment  of 

[221  ] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


his  death,  for  Moore  found  him  dying,  and  the  pen 
cil  just  dropping  from  his  fingers." 

"Oh,  I  don't  doubt  all  that,"  Zizi  said,  impatiently, 
"but  what  does  it  mean?  I've  gone  past  the  fact 
that  women  did  it;  I  thoroughly  believe  that, — in 
fact,  I  think  it  means  that  women  used  the  knife, 
but  it  may  not,  it  may  be  merely  that  they  were  the 
primary  causes.  However,  he  knew,  he  was  sure  of 
the  criminals  who  were  to  be  punished.  Now,  if 
that  bo  means  'get  both'  there  were  only  two.  If  it 
means  something  else  there  may  be  more  than  two 
women  implicated." 

"Oh,  Lord,  Ziz,  don't  gather  in  more  than  two 
suspects.  Women  don't  form  a  club  for  murder." 

"Women  don't  murder,  as  a  rule,  anyway.  You 
know  yourself,  the  small  proportion  of  feminine 
murderers." 

"That  ought  to  make  it  easier." 

"Not  at  all.  These  weren't  professionals,  who 
might  be  listed ;  they  were  women,  two,  most  likely, 
who  had  a  personal  matter  to  settle  with  the  Eng 
lishman,  and — settled  it." 

"I  grant  you  all  that,  except  the  personal  matter. 
I  can't  help  thinking  the  bun  business  is  a  factor, 
and  though  women  did  the  murder,  it  may  be  they 
were  interested  in  the  sale  of  the  buns." 

"Reasons?" 

"Because  Sir  Herbert  Binney  was  a  man  who 
jollied  round  with  little  chorus  youngsters  and  such, 
and  they  couldn't  and  wouldn't  kill  anybody.  Don't 
[  222  ] 


Penny  Wise 

look   for  the  impossible,   or  so   improbable  as   to 
amount  to  the  same  thing." 

"I  agree." 

"Nothing  has  turned  up  to  hint  at  Sir  Herbert's 
connection,  even  acquaintance,  with  any  older  women 
or  indeed  any  woman  of  a  different  stamp,  of  his 
own  station  in  life,  or  in  society  at  all.  No  woman 
who  could  be  mentioned  by  name  has  ever  had  to 
do  with  Sir  Herbert  since  he  came  to  New  York, — 
that  we  know  of." 

"There  might  be  somebody  though." 

"Of  course,  there  might.  If  there  is,  we'll  find 
her.  But  we  can't  hunt  a  needle  in  a  haystack.  If 
she  materializes,  we'll  spot  her. 

"Then,  excluding  the  squabs,  the  only  women 
tagged  onto  the  case  are  the  two  Feudists." 

"You've  said  it." 

"And  they  didn't  act  in  collusion?" 

"Never!" 

"Then  it  comes  down  to  a  decision  between  Miss 
Prall  and  her  companion  or  Mrs  Everett  and  her 
maid." 

"Not  necessarily  her  maid." 

"Crickets!   Not  her  daughter!" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I've  just  started,  Ziz.  Help 
me,  don't  jump  around  so." 

"Well,  bless  his  heart,  he  shouldn't  be  tormented. 
He  should  just  be  guided,  counselored  and  befriend 
ed  by  his  faithful  helper.     Now,  to  start  straight, 
what's  the  motive  in  each  of  these  two  cases  ?" 
[223] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Merely  to  get  rid  of  the  man  who  was  for  fur 
thering  the  marriage  of  the  two  young  people.  Miss 
Prall  knew  that  if  Sir  Herbert  were  dead,  his  for 
tune  would  be  young  Bates'  without  any  conditions 
and  the  boy  could  go  on  with  his  inventing  in  peace. 
Then,  she  felt,  he'd  get  so  engrossed  he'd  forget 
about  the  Everett  girl,  and  as  the  Everett  mother 
plans  to  move  away  all  would  be  well." 

"If  the  Everetts  are  leaving,  why  should  Miss 
Prall  go  to  the  trouble  of  eliminating  the  Bun  man?" 

"Point  well  taken,  Zizi ;  but,  you  see,  as  long  as  the 
Bun  man  was  around  he  nagged  at  nephew  to  go  into 
Buns  and  give  up  his  more  congenial  occupation." 

"Pretty  slim  reason  for  a  real  live  murder,  I 
think." 

"So  do  I.  But  it's  the  best  we  can  get  in  that  di 
rection.  Now,  coming  to  the  Everett  suspects,  the 
widow  may  have  more  reason  for  wishing  Sir  Her 
bert  dead  than  we  yet  know  of." 

"All  we  know  of  is  so  he  can't  push  along  the 
romance  of  the  youngsters." 

"Exactly.  And  here's  the  conclusion  of  the  whole 
matter.  I  conclude  that  those  two  women  are  the 
ones  to  be  looked  up,  not,  of  course,  acting  together, 
but  one  or  the  other  of  them.  If  we  can  get  any 
thing  on  either,  let's  do  so." 

"And  the  business  men?" 

"I  want  to  look  those  up,  too.  There's  one  Crip- 
pen,  who  considered  buying  out  Sir  Herbert's  busi 
ness.  Also,  he  was  an  old  beau  of  the  two  enemy 
[224] 


Penny  Wise 

women.    There  may  be  a  complication  worth  study 
ing  there." 

"What  is  this  bun  business?  I  mean,  does  he 
merely  sell  the  good  will, — of  what?" 

"Oh,  no ;  he  sells  his  recipe.  It's  a  secret  process, 
— the  making  of  Binney's  Buns, — and  the  recipe  is 
the  thing.  No  one  has  ever  been  able  to  imitate 
them  successfully.  All  attempts  are  dismal  failures. 
But  with  the  formula  any  one  can  make  them.  It's 
Sir  Herbert's  great  source  of  anxiety  lest  the  recipe, 
or  formula,  whatever  they  call  it,  should  be  discov 
ered." 

"Or  stolen!" 

"Stolen?" 

"Yes,  don't  you  see,  he  had  the  recipe  and  he  was 
murdered  for  it." 

"Oh,  don't  go  off  wild-goose  chasing!  It  might 
be, — or  it  might  be  he  was  murdered  for  his  watch 
and  chain,  which  they  didn't  take  after  all, — but  we 
have  to  have  some  shred  of  evidence  to  go  upon." 

"Sure  we  do.  And,  therefore,  I  ask  you,  where 
is  this  recipe?" 

"Why,  I  don't  know,— truly  I  don't." 

Wise  smiled  at  her  as  at  a  foolish  child,  but  the 
saucy  little  brown  face  looked  very  sober  as  she 
said,  seriously:  "and  you  call  yourself  a  detective! 
Why,  Penny-piece  of  Wisdom,  that  recipe  is  the  bone 
of  contention.  At  least,  if  it  isn't  found,  it  is." 

"And  did  the  women  murder  him  for  that?" 

"Like  as  not." 

[225] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Zizi,  you're  a  smart  little  girl,  but  sometimes  you 
don't  see  straight  Now,  drop  the  recipe,  or  con 
sider  it  by  yourself  some  other  time.  Your  stunt  is 
to  interest  friend  Bates." 

"The  nephew?" 

"Yes.  Don't  flirt  with  him, — that  isn't  the  role, 
but  talk  kindly  to  him,  and  thereby  find  out  all  you 
can  about  the  Everett  bunch.  If  you  admire  his 
sweetheart ' ' 

"Haven't  seen  her  yet." 

"Well,  you  will.  And  then  be  real  nice  and  girly- 
chummy  with  her,  and  so  get  both  the  lovers  on 
your  side.  Then  we  can  find  out  things  otherwise 
out  of  our  reach." 

"Meaning  the  oldsters  won't  give  up." 

"Of  course  not,  if  they're  guilty.  I'll  take  hold 
of  the  Crippen  end, — and  then,  if  your  hunch  about 
the  recipe  has  anything  to  it,  it  will  come  out, — and 
you  sidle  up  to  the  lovers.  We  want  to  get  quick 
action,  for  the  murderer  may  get  scared  and  run 
away." 

"Shall  I  insinuate  anything  about  the  older  women 

"Mercy,  no!  You  see,  Bates  is  scared  to  death 
now,  for  fear  it  was  his  aunt,  and  even  more  scared 
for  fear  it  was  Dorcas'  mother!  And  those  very 
real  fears  let  Bates  himself  out, — if  anybody  ever 
had  a  thought  of  him." 

"Oh,  nobody  could." 

[226] 


Penny  Wise 

"No;  well,  there's  your  work  cut  out  for  you. 
Also " 

"Also  I'll  keep  at  the  servants,  I've  got  the 
housekeeper  just  where  I  want  her,  but  there's  a 
head  chambermaid  who'll  bear  watching  and  I'm 
rather  interested  in  the  night  porter." 

"Yes,  he's  a  knowing  one.     Flirt  with  him " 

"Oh,  no,  he's  not  that  sort.  And,  too,  he's  en 
gaged  to  a  Tartar  named  Julie,  who  would  scratch 
out  my  not  altogether  unattractive  eyes." 

"Vanity  Box!  Well,  your  eyes  do  set  off  what 
would  otherwise  be  a  commonplace  face." 

Zizi  made  a  face  at  him  that  was  far  from  com 
monplace,  and  the  talk  went  on. 

They  were  indefatigable  workers,  these  two,  and 
what  they  planned  carefully  they  carried  out  with 
equal  care. 

And  even  while  she  talked,  Zizi  was  looking  about 
the  room  for  a  possible  hiding-place  for  the  recipe, 
which,  so  far  as  she  knew,  existed  only  in  her  imagi 
nation, — and,  she  had  a  dim  idea  that  she  had  found 
a  direction  in  which  to  look. 


[227] 


CHAPTER  XV 
And  Zizi 

IN  her  own  room,  Zizi  was  holding  a  confab  with 
the  chambermaid,  for  whom  she  had  sent. 
"Yes,  miss,"  the  girl  said,  staring  into  Zizi's 
magnetic  eyes.     "I  had  the  care  of  them  rooms  all 
the  time  Sir  Binney  was  in  'em." 

"Yes,  Molly,  I  know  you  did,  and  I  want  to  know 
a  few  things  about  Sir  Herbert  Binney.  Was  he  a 
fussy  gentleman,  about  germs,  say,  and " 

"Germs?  miss,  how  do  you  mean?" 

"Was  he  afraid  of  imperfect  drains,  unaired  mat 
tresses  or  careless  cleaning?" 

"He  was  not!  Lordy,  the  germs  coulda  carried 
him  off  and  he'd  never  noticed  it.  He  wudden't 
know  whether  I  swept  or  dusted  rightly,  or  whether 
I  gave  the  place  a  lick  and  a  promise.  He  was 
wrapped  up  in  his  own  affairs  so's  you  could  hardly 
get  his  attention  to  ask  him  anythin'.  Why,  miss?" 

"Don't  ask  me  why, — ever !"  Zizi  spoke  sharply 
but  not  unkindly,  and  the  girl  remembered.  "Now, 
Molly,  the  day  before  Sir  Herbert  moved  in,  he  had 
the  sitting-room  cleaned  and  repapered.  If  he 
wasn't  afraid  of  germs,  why  have  new  paper?" 
[228] 


And  Zizi 

"Well,  the  old  stuff  was  a  sight,  miss.  All  over, 
a  dark  green  sorta  lattice  work  pattern  with  smashin' 
big  red  roses." 

"Sounds  rather  effective " 

"A  nightmare,  that's  what  it  was.  Well,  Sir  Her 
bert,  the  minnit  he  looked  at  it  he  said,  'Rip  it  off!' ' 

"Did  you  hear  him  say  it?" 

"No,  miss,  the  bellboy  told  me.  He  was  luggin* 
up  bags  and  things  and  he  said  the  new  man  was  a 
peppery  cuss." 

"Was  he?" 

"Why,  no,  he  didn't  seem  that  way  to  me.  Easy- 
goin',  I  sh'd  say.  Absent-minded,  now  an'  then, — 
av'rage  generous,  an'  not  payin'  much  attention  to 
his  surroundin's.  That's  the  way  /  size  up  Sir 
Binney." 

"And  who  do  you  think  killed  him?" 

"Oh,  Lordy,  don't  ask  meHhat !"  The  girl  looked 
frightened,  and  quick-witted  Zizi,  instead  of  pursu 
ing  the  subject  then,  turned  it  off  with,  "No,  indeed, 
when  detectives  are  busy  on  the  case,  small  need  to 
ask  outsiders." 

"Not  that  I'm  exactly  an  outsider,  neither,"  and 
Molly  bridled  as  with  a  sense  of  self-importance. 
"Of  course  a  chambermaid,  now,  can't  help  seeinr 
a  lot  of  what  goes  on." 

"Of  course  not,"  Zizi  said,  carelessly.  "But  she 
isn't  supposed  to  tattle  and  I  shouldn't  dream  of 
quizzing  you." 

[229] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"No,  ma'am.  Not  but  what  I  could  tell 
things " 

"But  you  wouldn't.  You  might  get  into  serious 
trouble  if  you  did." 

Molly  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"As  how,  miss?"  she  said. 

"Well,  you  see,  it's  very  hard  to  tell  anything  just 
exactly  as  it  happened,  and  if  you  should  vary  a 
shade  from  the  truth,  and  then  tell  it  differently  next 
time  you  might  get  arrested  for — for  perjury." 

"Arrested!     Do  you  mean  that?" 

"I  certainly  do.  I've  known  girls  to  tell  stories 
under  stress  of  excitement  and  then  try  to  repeat 
them  and  get  all  mixed  up,  and,  oh,  well,  it's  a  dan 
gerous  performance." 

"But  if  I  just  told  you,  now,  miss?" 

"What  have  you  to  tell  ?  And  why  do  you  want 
to  tell  anybody?" 

"I  thought — I  thought  if  I  told  I  might  get  some 
thing  for  it." 

"I  like  your  frankness,  Molly,  and  I  don't  mind 
offering  you  a  fair  price  for  your  goods,  if  you  can 
put  'em  up.  But  can  you  ?" 

"Ma'am?" 

"Do  you  really  how  anything  of  importance,  that 
might  lead  to  the  discovery  of  the  people  who  mur 
dered  Sir  Herbert  Binney?  I  don't  want  any  hem 
ming  and  hawing,  but  a  straight  answer." 

"Well,  I  can't  give  you  a  positive  answer,  because 
I  don't  know  myself.  But  I  do  know  somebody 
[230] 


And  Zizi 

has  been  in  the  rooms  since,  several  times,  searching 
about  for  something." 

"What  did  this  person  seem  to  be  looking  for?" 

"Belike  it  was  a  paper,  for  I  could  tell  as  how  the 
desk  drawers  and  the  boxes  in  the  cupboard  had 
been  moved." 

"That's  the  sort  of  thing  I  want  to  know,  Molly." 
Zizi  spoke  quietly  and  earnestly,  "You  can  tell 
when  things  are  moved  as  no  one  else  can.  You 
mean,  of  course,  before  Mr  Wise  took  the  rooms?" 

"And  once  since.  Why,  last  evening,  when  Mr 
Wise  was  out,  somebody  got  in  there." 

"Who  could  it  be,  Molly?" 

"The  earnest,  chummy  attitude  of  the  inquirer 
made  Molly  feel  at  ease,  and  also  anxious  to  please. 

"I'm  not  sayin',"  the  chambermaid  replied,  a  cloud 
passing  over  her  face,  "for  I've  no  wish  to  get  in 
jail,  but  it's  somebody  from  the  floor  below." 

Zizi  knew  the  Everetts'  apartment  was  on  the  floor 
below,  but  she  said,  "H'm,  seventh  floor,  then. 
Who's  down  there?" 

"I  don't  know,  ma'am,"  and  Molly's  vacant  stare 
proved  her  a  good  actress,  and  one  determined  not 
to  give  away  any  information. 

This  attitude  showed  Zizi  that  the  girl  was  shrewd 
and  canny,  and  she  changed  her  tactics. 

"There  you  go,  Molly !"  she  exclaimed.     "How  do 
you  know  some  one  came  up  from  the  seventh  floor? 
You  state  these  things,  and  if  you're  not  able  to 
prove  them — well,  you  know  what  I  told  you." 
[231] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"But  I  heard  the — the  person  come  up  the  stairs." 

"Stairs !  A  likely  story !  Why  not  use  the  eleva 
tor?" 

"That's  just  it, — the — the  person  didn't  want  to 
be  seen.  So " 

"The  person?" 

"Yes'm,  the  person  sneaks  up  the  stairs  and  into 
the  sitting-room " 

"Opening  the  door  with  a  key?" 

"Well, — you  see,  ma'am,  I  was  in  the  bathroom, 
—and " 

"And  the  person  didn't  know  you  were  there,  and 
you  made  no  sign?" 

"Yes,"  eagerly.  "Yes,  that's  the  way  it  was;  I 
thought  I'd  find  out  something " 

"And  did  you?" 

But  that  time  Zizi's  eagerness  proved  her  undo 
ing. 

For  some  reason  or  other  Molly  took  alarm  and 
shut  up  like  a  clam. 

"No,"  she  averred.  "I  couldn't  see  who  it  was, 
and  as  I  peeked  out,  the — person  ran  away." 

Zizi  knew  from  the  sly  and  obstinate  look  in  her 
eyes  that  Molly  was  lying  and  that  she  intended  to 
stick  to  it.  She  was  nobody's  fool,  this  Molly,  and 
though  Zizi  was  sure  that  she  would  yet  sell  her 
secret  to  the  highest  bidder,  it  was  not  altogether 
wise  to  begin  the  bidding  at  once.  Also,  Zizi  felt 
certain  that  what  the  girl  knew  was  of  serious  im 
portance  and  it  was  imperative  that  Pennington 
[232] 


And  Zizi 

Wise  should  learn  the  truth.  But  Zizi's  ways  were 
devious  and  she  chose  now  to  treat  the  matter 
lightly. 

"Molly,  you're  a  fraud,"  she  said,  laughingly; 
"you've  built  up  a  person  of  mysterious  appearance 
and  unknown  sex,  but  I  can't  fall  for  your  plan.  I 
don't  blame  you  for  wanting  to  make  a  little  easy 
money, — who  doesn't?  But  you  didn't  pick  a  win 
ner  when  you  selected  me  to  try  it  on !  Go  to  some 
body  else  with  your  wares.  Try  Mr  Bates  or  Miss 
Prall." 

The  girl's  face  fell  and  Zizi  smiled  in  satisfaction. 
But  Molly  grew  belligerent  and  exclaimed,  "Oh, 
very  well,  miss,  but  you'll  be  sorry.  I  will  go  to 
some  one  else  with  my  story,  but  it  will  be  to " 

"I  know!  To  the  person  herself!  Well,  go  on, 
if  you  can  get  to  her  undiscovered !" 

"I  can !     With  no  trouble  at  all !" 

"Not  forgetting  the  danger  you  run  of  being  ar 
rested?" 

"Danger !  Pooh !  You  can't  scare  me  that  way  ? 
Beside,  you'll  never  know " 

"Who  the  person  is  ?  I  know  already.  Kate  Hol 
land!" 

This  was  a  mere  guess  on  Zizi's  part,  and  she  said 
it  to  learn  from  Molly's  expression  how  near  right  it 
might  be. 

To  her  surprise,  Molly  looked  mystified. 

"Kate  Holland!"  she  whispered.  "You — you 
don't  suspect  her,  do  you?" 

[233] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Do  you  ?"  Zizi  shot  back. 
"Yes,  I  do, — or  I  did,  until- 


"Until  you  saw  the  person  ?" 

"Yes,  that's  it." 

Zizi  was  about  to  insist  on  the  name  of  the  person 
when  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  the  head 
chambermaid  insisted  on  having  the  services  of 
'Molly  at  once.  The  girl  went  away  and  Zizi  went 
straight  to  tell  Penny  Wise  all  about  it. 

She  tried  the  door  of  Wise's  rooms  and  as  the 
knob  turned  she  walked  in.  But  to  her  surprise  the 
man  sitting  at  the  table  in  the  sitting-room,  and  read 
ing  the  newspaper,  was  not  Wise  but  Mr  Vail. 

"Good  afternoon,"  he  said,  a  little  blankly,  as  he 
rose. 

"How  do  you  do?"  Zizi  returned,  with  one  of  her 
attractive  smiles.  "I'm  Mr  Wise's  assistant.  Can 
I  do  anything  for  you  ?" 

"I'm  waiting  here  in  hope  he'll  come  in.  I'm 
Vail, — I've  rooms  on  the  tenth.  You  may  have 
heard  of  me;  I'm  interested  in  the  Binney  case,  and 
I'd  like  a  little  talk  with  Mr  Wise, — that  is,  if  he 
cares  for  it." 

"He  will,"  and  Zizi  nodded  confidently.  "Have 
you  any  knowledge,  suspicion  or  evidence?" 

"None  of  those  important  commodities, — merely 
straws  that  may  or  may  not  show  the  direction  of 
the  wind." 

"There's  no  knowing  when  Mr  Wise  will  show 
[234] 


And  Zizi 

up,"  Zizi  observed;  "don't  you  want  to  tell  me? 
It'll  be  all  the  same." 

"All  the  same !     Are  you  and  Mr  Wise  partners  ?" 

Zizi  flashed  her  best  smile  as  she  returned,  "Prac 
tically.  I'm  only  assistant,  but  what  is  told  to  me 
goes  to  him  just  as  I  get  it." 

"Accurate  and  careful,  eh?  Well,  my  informa 
tion  is  regarding  a  woman  I  saw  skulking  in  the  halls 
the  night  of  the  murder.  You  see,  it  chanced  that 
I  came  into  the  house  and  up  in  the  elevator  just  be 
fore  the  tragedy  occurred.  I  stood  a  few  minutes 
at  my  door,  before  leaving  the  car,  because  Bob 
Moore  and  I  were  discussing  the  book  he  was  read 
ing.  He's  a  good  sort,  and  often  when  I  come  in 
late  I  give  him  a  jolly  to  help  along  his  weary  watch 
hours." 

"All  right,"  chirped  Zizi,  "what  followed?" 

"Only  that  as  we  came  up  I  heard  some  one  on 
the  stairs.  They  surround  the  elevator,  you  know, 
and  though  indistinct,  I  know  I  heard  a  tread  on  the 
stairs  as  we  were  at  or  near  the  eighth  floor.  But 
we  came  on  up  and  then,  as  I  say,  we  stood  a  bit 
talking.  Then  Moore  went  down  again,  and  I,  feel 
ing  curious  about  the  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  went 
around  to  the  staircase  and  looked  down." 

"How  far  could  you  see?" 

"Not  far,  because  the  stairs  wind  around  the 
elevator  well.  But  I  went  down  farther  and  I  caught 
sight  of  a  woman  with  a  shawl  over  her  head " 

"What  kind  of  a  shawl?" 
[235] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Lord,  I  don't  know!  Grayish  and  softish,  it 
looked,  but  the  night  lights  are  dim  and  I  only  caught 
a  glimpse  of  this  hooded  figure  moving  stealthily 
along  the  hall.  That's  all,  and  if  it's  of  any  impor 
tance " 

"It  doesn't  seem  to  me  to  be  of  much, — what  do 
you  think?" 

Vail  stared  at  her.  He  was  not  accustomed  to 
have  his  suggestions  so  lightly  received.  But  he 
only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said: 

"I  don't  think  anything  about  it.  I  merely  offer 
the  information  that  there  was  a  mysterious  seeming 
woman  lurking  in  the  halls  that  night :  If  it  means 
nothing  to  anybody,  there's  no  harm  done." 

"No;  certainly  not.     How  tall  was  she?" 

"Above  average  height,  and  gaunt  of  figure." 

"About  like  Miss  Prall?" 

"Good  heavens,  I  wouldn't  say  that !" 

"Why  not?  Is  it  a  crime  to  be  of  Miss  Frail's 
appearance  ?" 

"You're  a  funny  little  piece!  Well,  then,  I  may 
say  the  shape  was  somewhat  like  Miss  Frail's,  but 
I'm  sure  it  was  not  she." 

"How  can  you  be  sure  it  was  not  she  unless  you 
are  sure  who  it  was  ?" 

"I  can  be  sure  anything  is  not  anything  else,  with 
out  knowing  positively  what  anything  is !"  and  Vail 
glared  at  her  an  instant,  and  then  both  broke  into 
laughter. 

[236] 


And  Zizi 

"It's  all  right,"  Zizi  informed  him ;  "I'm  only  pur- 
suring  my  investigations  according  to  orders." 

"Oho !   Am  I  being  put  through  a  third  degree  ?" 

"Sort  of.  But  I  think  I've  learned  all  you  know. 
Or,  wait,  was  the  beshawled  one  of  Kate  Holland's 
style?  You  know  to  liken  one  woman  to  another 
in  appearance  doesn't  necessarily  accuse  her  of  mur 
der." 

"No,  that's  true.  Well,  the  woman  I  saw  could 
be  said  to  be  like  Kate  Holland  or  Miss  Prall  either, 
in  general  outline,  which  is  all  I  could  discern  of  face 
or  figure.  But  I  can't  see  what  either  of  those 
women  would  be  doing  prowling  about  the  halls  at 
two  A.  M." 

"Unless  it  was  in  connection  with  the  murder," 
Zizi  said,  straightforwardly.  "They  all  have  de 
clared  they  were  in  bed  and  asleep  but  who's  to  wit 
ness  that?" 

"In  the  very  nature  of  things,  nobody,"  Vail  said. 
"And  now,  I'll  be  going.  I  won't  wait  for  Mr  Wise 
just  now,  but  I'll  see  him  soon,  if  he  cares  to  talk  to 
me." 

But  just  as  Vail  was  leaving,  Richard  Bates  ap 
peared,  and  Vail  tarried  to  speak  with  him. 

"Any  developments  ?"  Vail  asked. 

"No,"  said  Bates,  despondently.  "That  is,  noth 
ing  of  importance.  I  say,  Vail,  what  do  you  think 
about  the  Crippen  deal?  You  know  my  uncle 
planned  to  see  him  that  night  regarding  a  sale  of 

the  business,  and " 

[237] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Did  he  see  him  ?"  Vail  spoke  eagerly. 

"I  don't  know.     Crippen's  out  of  town " 

"He  is !  Don't  you  think  you  ought  to  keep  tabs 
on  him  ?" : 

"Why?" 

"Only  because  he  was  interested  in  the  Binney 
business." 

"So  were  you." 

"True,  but  Sir  Herbert  and  I  had  our  meeting 
and  got  over  it  long  ago." 

"He  wanted  to  sell  out  to  you?" 

"You  know  all  about  it,  Bates.  Binney  wanted  to 
sell  his  Buns  to  anybody  who  would  pay  enough. 
Of  course,  in  the  event  of  your  sticking  to  your  re 
fusal  to  Bun  with  him.  If  you'd  agree  to  do  that, 
he  told  me,  he'd  have  no  reason  to  sell.  But  he 
didn't  want  to  carry  it  on  alone,  nor  did  he  want  to 
go  in  with  anybody  else.  He  wanted  to  sell  out 
right  to  me,  but  his  price  was  prohibitive  and  he 
wouldn't  ease  up  on  it  a  bit,  so  there  was  nothing 
doing.  That's  all  our  story." 

"What  did  he  want  to  sell  you?" 

"The  good  will,  the  bakery  and  fixtures, — in  Eng 
land, — why,  the  Buns,  the  Binney  Buns,  lock,  stock 
and  barrel." 

"Didn't  he  have  the  recipe  for  sale?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  assume  that  was  included  in  the 
business,  of  course.  As  I  couldn't  dream  of  meet 
ing  his  figures,  we  didn't  go  into  details." 

"Did  Crippen?" 

"Dunno.  I  never  heard  what  kind  of  a  discus- 
[238] 


And  Zizi 

sion  they  had.  But  what  are  you  getting  at  ?  Why 
drag  in  Crippen?" 

"Oh,  hang  it  all,  Vail,  I  don't  want  to  drag  in 
anybody ;  and  yet  I'd  be  willing  to  drag  in  anybody, 
if  I  htfd  a  trace  of  suspicion  against  anybody.  For, 
unless  a  new  suspect  turns  up  pretty  quick,  I'm  afraid 
they'll  pitch  on  my  aunt." 

"Ridiculous!" 

"I  know  it  seems  so  to  you  and  me,  for  we  know 
Aunt  Letitia,  but  these  strangers,  this  Wise  and 
Miss  Zizi,  here,"  bowing  in  her  direction,  "they  are 
already  looking " 

"Now,  Mr  Bates,  that's  too  bad !"  cried  Zizi,  her 
black  eyes  shining  with  real  sympathy,  as  she  saw 
the  young  man's  distress.  "Please  be  sure  Mr  Wise 
and  I  never  look  seriously  in  any  direction  unless 
something  definite  points  us  that  way.  And  by 
elimination  not  many  suspects  are  left." 

"Who  are  eliminated?"  asked  Vail,  gravely. 

"We  have  cut  out  all  thought  of  the  chorus  girls, 
and  the  girls  employed  in  this  house,"  Zizi  began. 

"All  the  house  girls?"  asked  Vail,  quickly. 

"I'm  not  sure  about  that,  but  I  mean  the  elevator 
girls,  the  telephone  girls,  the  news-stand  girls  and 
the  pages.  I  don't  know  anything  about  the  upstairs 
maids,  chambermaids,  cleaners,  and  such.  But 
there's  been  no  suggestion  of  those." 

"Why  should  there  be?"  said  Bates,  impatiently. 

"I  know  myself,  no  stupid  little  servant  killed  my 

uncle.     It  was  done  by  some  one  with  brains,  with 

power,  with  influence.     He  was  not  a  man  to  be 

[239] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


killed  for  some  petty  reason;  he  was  a  man  of  big 
interests  in  a  business  way,  and  of  wide  experience 
socially.  His  murderers — or  murderesses — must  be 
found,  but  I  don't  think  we've  got  on  the  right  track 
yet." 

"And  do  you  think  Crippen  is  a  promising  way  to 
look?"  asked  Vail,  scrutinizing  Bates'  anxious 
face. 

"I  don't  know.  But  he  was  mixed  up  in  the  Bun 
matter;  he  hadn't  finished  the  deal,  as  you  had,  and 
as  one  or  two  other  companies  had,  and  it  seems  to 
me  he  ought  to  be  looked  up,  at  least,  before  we  go 
on." 

"I've  looked  him  up,"  and  Wise's  form  came  into 
view  around  the  corner  of  the  hall.  He  joined  the 
group  that  still  stood  by  the  door  of  the  Binney 
apartment.  "I've  looked  into  the  Crippen  connec 
tion  with  the  Bun  deal,  and  there's  nothing  doing. 
Binney  and  Crippen  were  on  the  outs  but  not  be 
cause  of  Buns.  They  were  settled  some  time  before 
the  murder.  Still,  Crippen  did  want  the  recipe,  and 
was  willing  to  buy  that  without  the  bakery  or  any 
paraphernalia  of  the  business. 

"Is  that  so?"  and  Vail  seemed  interested. 
"Wouldn't  Binney  sell  that?" 

"I'm  told  not." 

"Who  told  you?" 

"Crippen's  people, — down  at  his  office.  I  talked 
with  a  secretary,  and  I've  talked  with  some  of  the 
'Crippen's  Cakes'  directors.  They  want  the  recipe 
and  nothing  else." 

[240] 


And  Zizi 

"Queer,"  mused  Zizi,  "that  a  recipe  should  be  so 
valuable !  Why  can't  they  buy  a  bun  and  analyze  it, 
and  so  find  out  how  it's  made?" 

"That's  been  tried,"  Vail  informed  her.  "But 
the  secret  can't  be  learned  that  way.  There's  an  un 
known  ingredient,  or  the  things  are  put  together  in 
some  unknown  order  or  way, — but  no  one  has  yet 
been  able  to  imitate  successfully  the  Binney  Bun. 
I'm  a  bread  man,  and  I  know  that." 

"Well,  if  you've  struck  off  Crippen's  name,  where 
do  we  stand?"  Richard  said,  looking  gloomily  at 
Wise. 

"We  stand  pat  for  the  women,"  the  detective  de 
clared.  "And  /  have  from  the  first.  I  can't  doubt 
or  disbelieve  a  dying  statement, — can  you,  Mr 
Vail?" 

"Surely  not.  That  is,  on  general  principles.  But 
if  this  pursuit  of  women  leads  to " 

"No  matter  where  it  leads,"  Pennington  Wise 
said,  firmly,  "the  trail  must  be  followed  up.  Mur 
der  demands  a  life  for  a  life.  The  danger  is  that 
suspicion  may  be  directed  toward  the  wrong  women. 
But  that  is  our  great  care,  and  I  can't  think  it  will 
happen." 

"It  must  not  happen,"  said  Vail,  sharply,  and, 
with  a  sympathetic  glance  at  Richard  Bates,  he  went 
away. 

"Now,  Mr.  Bates,"  said  Wise  as  the  others  re 
turned  to  the  sitting-room  and  closed  the  door, 
"I've  been  pretty  busy  and  I've  some  good  news  for 
[241] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


you.  I  think  we  can  say  positively  there  is  no  dan 
ger  of  suspicion  coming  to  rest  on  your  aunt  or  her 
companion,  Miss  Gurney." 

"Thank  God,"  cried  Richard  fervently. 

"The  matter  of  the  paper-knife  is,  I  think,  just 
as  Miss  Prall  explained  it;  she  did  give  it  to  Sir 
Herbert  to  be  mended,  and  he  did  have  it  in  his 
pocket  the  night  he  was  killed." 

"And  the  assailant  did  use  it?"  asked  Zizi. 

"Yes ;  or  so  it  seems  to  me.  But  all  this  has  noth 
ing  to  do  with  the  owner  of  the  knife,  for  you  see, 
Binney  himself  was  the  temporary  owner  to  all  in 
tents  and  purposes." 

"Then  that  makes  the  deed  seem  unpremeditated 
and  impulsive,"  said  Bates. 

"Yes,  it  makes  it  seem  so, — though  it  may  not 
have  been.  But  since  my  day's  work,  I've  gathered 
suggestions  and  testimony, — though  no  material  evi 
dence,  to  turn  my  thoughts  strongly  toward  the 
women  on  the  seventh  floor,  Mrs  Everett  and 
her " 

"Her  maid!"  Bates  interrupted,  speaking  with  a 
desperate  haste,  as  if  afraid  Wise  would  say  some 
other  word. 

"No,"  said  Wise.  "Her  daughter." 

"You  lie!"  Bates  cried,  and  Zizi,  her  face  white 
and  drawn,  said  "Oh,  Penny,  she  couldn't f" 

"Couldn't  strike  the  blow,  maybe,  but  she  helped 
her  mother,  and  did  it  by  keeping  watch.    She  was 
seen  in  the  hall  with  a  scarf  over  her  head." 
[242] 


CHAPTER  XVI 
Testimony 

IT'S  inconceivable,  it's  impossible,  it's  incredi- 
bleF  Richard  Bates  declared.  'Til  never  be 
lieve  it!  Mrs  Everett,  even  if  she  had  the 
will,  could  never  accomplish  such  a  deed !" 

"But  that  Kate  person  could,"  Zizi  suggested,  and 
Bates  turned  to  her. 

"But  Mr  Wise  doesn't  accuse  the  maid, — he  ac 
cuses  the  daughter!  A  gentle,  innocent  young 
girl " 

"Now,  wait  a  minute,"  put  in  Wise;  "I  don't  say 
the  daughter  was  at  fault, — she  might  have  been  a 
tool  without  knowing  it.  I  mean,  she  may  have 
kept  watch  for  her  mother " 

"What  do  you  mean, — kept  watch?  Miss  Ever 
ett  is  not  a  numskull  to  be  told  to  'keep  watch'  and 
blindly  obey." 

"Nor  is  Mrs  Everett  ninny  enough  to  expect 
that,"  Wise  returned.  "But  the  lady  is  clever  enough 
to  persuade  her  daughter  to  keep  a  lookout  on  some 
plausible  pretense " 

"But  I  don't  understand,"  Bates  persisted;  "just 
[  243  ] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


how  do  you  reconstruct  the  crime, — on  that  the 
ory?" 

"Why,  say  Mrs  Everett  was  in  waiting,  till  Bin- 
ney  should  come  in " 

"Where  was  she?"  Bates  demanded. 

"Perhaps  behind  one  of  the  big  pillars  in  the  onyx 
lobby, — a  dozen  people  could  hide  behind  them " 

"Rubbish!     But  go  on." 

"Well,  say  she  hid  there  with  the  knife,  which  she 
had  procured  from  Binney  earlier, — he  admired  her, 
you  know " 

"He  admired  every  pretty  woman.     Go  oh." 

"And  then,  when  Vail  came  in,  and  Moore  took 
him  up,  the  coast  was  clear,  and  just  then  Binney 
happened  in " 

"Strange  that  he  should  happen  in  just  then !" 

"Well,  but  he  did,  didn't  he?  He  liad  to,  didn't 
he,  to  get  there  at  all  ?  You  don't  think  he  was  hid 
ing  there  waiting  to  be  killed,  do  you?  Well,  then 
Binney  came  in,  and  the  lady, — or  her  maid,  Kate, — 
stepped  out  and  stabbed  him,  and  then  ran  up  the 
stairs, — and  in  the  halls  Miss  Everett  was  watching 
to  see  that  there  was  no  one  looking  on.  She  need 
not  have  known  what  her  mother  was  up  to, — but — 
she  was  seen  in  the  halls  that  night  by  two  separate 
witnesses." 

"Are  you  sure  it  was  Miss  Everett  they  saw?" 
asked  Bates  in  a  tone  of  anxiety  rather  than  sur 
prise. 

[244] 


Testimony 

"Positive;  they  described  her  dress  and  ornaments 
exactly." 

"But  she  might  have  been  in  the  halls  for  any 
purpose " 

"At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning?" 

"She  might  have  missed  her  mother  from  the 
apartment  and  stepped  out  to  look  for  her." 

"But  then  she  would  have  been  in  negligee  or  with 
a  wrap  over  her  nightclothes.  She  was  seen  fully 
dressed,  as  she  had  been  in  the  evening." 

"Well,"  and  Bates  spoke  defiantly,  "what  does  it 
prove?  You  haven't  fastened  the  crime  on  Mrs 
Everett  yet.  You  haven't  even  any  real  evidence 
against  her." 

"Oh,  yes  we  have, — but  look  here,  Mr  Bates.  It 
won't  do  for  you  to  take  that  antagonistic  attitude 
toward  me  and  my  work.  As  you  know,  I  told  you 
I  must  follow  wherever  the  trail  leads,  and  this  in 
dicative  direction  must  be  followed  up.  It  may  be 
that  the  Everetts  are  not  the  'women,'  and  if  so,  I'll 
find  that  out.  But  I  may  say,  that  so  far,  there 
are,  to  my  mind,  no  women  suspects  but  the  Everetts 
or — your  aunt." 

"I'd  rather  you'd  suspect  my  aunt !  I'd  rather  the 
criminal  should  be  my  aunt " 

"But,  Mr  Bates,  I  can't  consult  your  preferences 
as  to  the  identity  of  the  criminal !" 

"Now,  don't  you  worry,  Mr  Bates,"  Zizi  said, 
gently,  "I  don't  believe   your    sweetheart    or    her 
mother  are  mixed  up  in  this  thing  at  all." 
[2451 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Why,  Ziz?"  and  Wise  turned  a  mild,  question 
ing  glance  her  way.  He  had  great  faith  in  the  opin 
ions  of  his  little  helper,  and  was  always  ready  to  re 
vise  his  own  judgment  if  hers  contradicted  it  For 
Zizi  never  spoke  thoughtlessly  or  without  reason. 
And  this  last  remark  of  hers  indicated  some  knowl 
edge  or  indication  that  might  turn  the  trend  of  sus 
picion. 

"Because  that  little  fluff  of  a  Mrs  Everett  is  too 
good-natured  to  kill  or  to  direct  the  killing  of  any 
body." 

"She  isn't  so  awfully  good-natured!"  exclaimed 
Bates,  involuntarily.  "You  should  hear  her  talk  to 
my  aunt !" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  know  about  that  feud  thing,"  and 
Zizi  smiled  tolerantly ;  "but  that's  a  sort  of  obsession 
or  idiosyncrasy  of  the  two  women.  Really,  Mrs 
Everett  is  a  good-natured  lady,  and  you  needn't 
have  any  fights  with  your  mother-in-law,  unless  you 
make  them  yourself." 

"Don't  be  flippant,  Zizi,"  warned  Wise.  "This 
isn't  the  time  for  banter." 

"It's  the  time  for  action,"  said  Zizi,  springing 
from  her  seat  "I'm  going  straight  to  Miss  Prall 
with  the  whole  story,  and  I  think  we'll  learn  a  lot. 
Are  you  men  coming  with  me  ?" 

Like  sheep,  Bates  and  Wise  followed  her. 

Pennington  Wise  was  really  more  at  a  loss  than 
he  had  ever  before  found  himself.  The  indisputable 
evidence  of  the  dying  man's  message  was  all  he 
[246] 


Testimony 

really  had  to  work  on,  and  his  work  on  that  was  not 
productive,  so  far,  of  success.  The  women  accused 
must  be  found.  But  Wise,  while  he  realized  there 
were  no  other  suspects,  couldn't  think  the  two  ladies 
of  Feud  fame  were  the  ones. 

True  enough,  they  could  both  be  said  to  have  had 
motive,  and,  in  the  house,  anybody  could  be  said  to 
have  had  opportunity,  yet  both  motive  and  oppor 
tunity  were  slight  ones,  and  the  latter  largely  de 
pendent  on  a  convenient  chance. 

It  seemed  absurd  to  think  of  Mrs  Everett, — or 
Kate  Holland, — waiting  behind  a  pillar,  and  then 
seeing  the  victim  walk  in!  And  yet  he  had  walked 
in;  somebody  had  met  him  and  stabbed  him,  so  the 
other  suppositions  were,  at  least,  plausible. 

The  three  went  to  the  Prall  apartment,  and, 
strange  to  say,  found  Miss  Letitia  in  a  quiet,  placid 
mood. 

She  looked  at  them  with  a  sort  of  wondering  in 
terest,  and  bade  them  be  seated. 

"You've  been  here  several  days,  now,  Mr  Wise," 
she  said;  "have  you  made  any  real  progress?" 

"It's  hard  to  say,  Miss  Prall,"  the  detective  re 
plied;  "but  if  you'll  give  me  the  benefit  of  your 
opinions  I  may  derive  help  from  them." 

"Opinions  on  what  ?"  and  the  sharp  old  face  began 
to  show  its  more  usual  expression  of  asperity. 

"On  whether  the  murder  of  Sir  Herbert  was  the 
work  of  Mrs  Everett  or  not." 

"Of  course  it  was!  I  don't  say  Adeline  Everett 
[247] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


held  the  knife,  but  she  was  the  instigator  and  com- 
mander-in-chief."  • 

"What  makes  you  think  so?" 

"Because  I  know  her.  I  know  her  soft,  purring 
ways,  and  I  know  of  the  tiger's  claws  that  are  inside 
her  velvet  grasp." 

"Well,  it  seems  strange,  does  it  not,  that  she  says 
pretty  much  the  same  about  you?" 

"Me!     Adeline  Everett  accuses  me?" 

"Yes;  she  says  that  perhaps  you  didn't  actually 
strike  the  blow,  but  that  you  were  aided  and  abetted 
by  your  companion " 

"That  Eliza!  She  wouldn't  kill  a  fly,  and  Ade 
line  knows  it !" 

"She  suggested  that  your  nephew  might  have 
helped  you  in  the  actual  crime " 

"Look  here,  Mr  Wise,  you're  talking  mighty 
queer  talk.  I  suppose  murders  and  killings  are  so 
much  a  part  of  your  life  that  you  think  little  of  one 
more  or  less ;  but  it  isn't  so  with  quiet,  law-abiding 
citizens.  And  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  take  this 
accusation  of  another  woman  calmly,  you're  very 
much  mistaken.  I'm  going  at  once  to  see  Adeline 
Everett,  and  if  she  did  say  that  to  you, — if  you 
haven't  misrepresented  or  exaggerated " 

"But  wait  a  minute,  Miss  Prall.  You  are  angry, 
— and  perhaps  justly  so, — at  her  accusation  of  you. 
Remember  that  you've  also  accused  her  of  the  same 
crime !" 

Letitia  Prall  looked  at  him.  "That's  true,"  she 
[248] 


Testimony 

said;  "now,  as  a  detective,  you  can  judge  between 
us.  I'll  go  to  her  rooms  or  you  may  bring  her  here, 
and  let  us  accuse  each  other.  We  can't  both  be 
guilty,  and  I  can  judge  from  her  manner  whether 
she  is  or  not,  even  if  you  can't  do  that." 

"It  would  be  a  good  test,"  agreed  Wise.  "But 
I'm  pretty  sure  that  if  either  of  you  really  is  the 
guilty  person  that  you  will  be  able  to  pretend  you 
are  not,  so  plausibly  as  to  deceive  Sherlock  Holmes 
himself!" 

"I  could  easily  fool  you  if  I  wished  to,"  said  Miss 
Prall,  with  dignity,  "but  in  this  instance  I've  no  oc 
casion  to  do  so." 

Zizi  looked  up  at  this,  and  said,  "You  could  fool  a 
man,  Miss  Prall,  but  you  couldn't  fool  me." 

"Why  not,  child?"  and  the  older  lady  looked  at 
her  curiously. 

"Because  one  woman  understands  another.  And 
I  know  that  if  you  planned  to  or  wanted  to  kill  a 
man,  you  would  choose  to  do  it  in  some  less  con 
spicuous  place  than  the  onyx  lobby." 

"Nonsense,  Zizi,"  Wise  said,  "no  one  would 
choose  their  own  apartment " 

"No;  but  Miss  Prall  would  have  waited  for  a 
chance  on  some  of  these  upper  floors, — she  never 
would  have  arranged  the  scene  downstairs." 

"You're  right,  girl,"  said  Letitia  Prall,  "though 
it's  uncanny  for  you  to  think  that  out.  I've  won 
dered  many  times  why  any  one  chose  so  public  a 
place." 

[249] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"But  that  showed  cleverness,"  Wise  insisted. 
"You  see  for  yourself  how  difficult  of  solution  it 
makes  the  mystery.  It  gives  room  for  assumption 
that  some  one  came  in  from  the  street." 

"There's  room  for  that  assumption,  if  you  like," 
Zizi  declared,  "but  what've  you  got  to  back  it  up? 
Nothing." 

"What  have  you  got  to  back  up  any  theory?" 
cried  Bates.  "Nothing." 

"Then  let's  get  something!"  exclaimed  Letitia, 
rising  from  her  chair.  "Come  on  with  me  to  Mrs 
Everett's  and  we'll  get  something  to  back  up  some 
theory,  I'll  be  bound !" 

Glad  of  the  chance, — for  which  he  had  maneu 
vered, — to  see  the  two  inimical  women  together, 
Wise  followed  the  others  to  the  Everett  apartment. 

The  meeting  between  the  two  would  have  been 
comical,  but  for  the  underlying  element  of  tragedy 
that  pervaded  the  whole  situation. 

"Why  are  you  here,  Letitia  Prall  ?"  was  Mrs  Ev 
erett's  greeting. 

"To  ask  you  why  you  accused  me  of  murder," 
answered  Miss  Prall,  her  manner  more  the  Grena 
dier  than  ever.  "I'm  told  you  sit  in  judgment  on 
me  and  I  ask  an  explanation." 

"The  facts  explain  themselves,"  returned  the 
blonde  little  lady ;  "it's  not  hard  to  understand  why  I 
think  you  killed  a  man  whom  you  had  often  ex 
pressed  a  desire  to  see  dead !" 

"Huh!"  snifted  Miss  Prall.  "I've  often  ex- 
[250] 


Testimony 

pressed  a  desire  to  see  you  dead, — but  I  haven't 
killed  you — yet !  You  know  perfectly  well,  Adeline, 
that  saying  I  wish  a  person  dead,  is  merely  a  habit  of 
mine, — as  you  say  'I  nearly  died  when  I  heard  it!' 
Now,  you  didn't  nearly  die  at  all,  and  death  is  not  so 
trivial  as  we  seem  to  think  it,  when  we  talk  so  at 
random.  Lots  of  people,  especially  women,  throw 
around  phrases  such  as,  'I  thought  I'd  die,'  or  'I 
could  kill  you  for  that,'  without  ariy  real  meaning 
to  the  words  at  all.  So,  once  and  for  all,  Adeline 
Everett,  stop  using  those  silly  phrases  as  evidence  of 
my  criminal  tendencies!  And  suspicion  thus  being 
lifted  from  me,  I  denounce  you  as  the  one  who  killed 
Sir  Herbert.  And  I  have  far  more  reason,  for  you 
were  not  only  interested  in  his  demise  because  of 
the  affair  between  your  daughter  and  my  nephew 
but  you  had  an  ax  of  your  own  to  grind.  You 
wanted  Sir  Herbert  for  your  husband.  Yes,  you 
may  well  blush " 

"Hush  up,  Letitia  Prall!  Am  I  to  be  insulted  in 
my  own  house?  Are  the  raving  words,  the  wicked 
thoughts  of  a  misguided,  vicious  woman  to  be  be 
lieved  by  those  who  hear  them?  I  protest!  I, — • 
shut  up,  Letitia!" 

For  Miss  Prall  was  talking  at  the  same  time,  and 
her  biting,  scathing  words  were  only  unheard  be 
cause  of  the  higher  pitch  and  louder  tone  of  Mrs 
Everett's  voice. 

The  audience  undertook  to  pour  oil  on  the  trou 
bled  waters  but  with  no  success. 
[251] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"Keep  still,  Richard,"  Miss  Prall  ordered,  when 
Bates  began,  "Please,  Auntie " 

And  Mrs.  Everett  screamed  "Shut  up!"  to  Zizi, 
who,  almost  laughing  at  the  strange  scene,  endeav 
ored  to  placate  one  or  both  the  combatants. 

"You  know  you  tried  your  best,"  declared  the 
irate  spinster,  "you  know  you  inveigled  him  in  here, 
you  wheedled  and  cajoled  and  fawned  and  flat 
tered " 

"How  well  you  know  the  process !"  screamed  Mrs 
Everett;  "because  you  tried  all  your  own  pitiful, 
ineffectual  cajoleries, — and  all  to  no  avail !  I  didn't 
have  to  make  any  effort  to  entice  Sir  Herbert  to  call 
on  me, — indeed,  he  came  so  frequently,  I  was  forced 
to  dissuade  him,  lest  people  talk " 

"People  always  talk  about  you, — and  rarely  in 
flattering  terms !  You  are  well  known  through  the 
house  for  what  you  are,  and  if  you  weren't  already 
planning  to  leave,  you  would  be  put  out, — that  I 
happen  to  know." 

"You  don't  know  any  such  thing!  You  made 
that  up " 

"I  didn't!" 

"You  did!" 

"Hush !"  Wise's  peremptory  tone  brought  a  mo 
mentary  silence.  "Now  that  you've  reached  the 
stage  of  silly  vituperation,  it's  time  to  call  a  halt. 
This  foolishness  is  uninteresting  as  well  as  unpleas 
ant.  You  two  ladies  will  answer  a  few  questions, 
— in  the  name  of  the  law !" 

[252] 


Testimony 

The  last  phrase,  high  sounding  and  threatening, 
had  its  desired  effect.  Like  most  women,  they  had 
a  hearty  and  healthy  fear  of  that  mysterious  thing 
called  the  law,  and  when  it  was  held  over  their  heads 
it  acted  as  a  rod. 

"You  have  accused  one  another  of  the  murder  of 
Sir  Herbert,"  Wise  began,  trying  to  sound  formal 
and  awe-inspiring.  "Have  you,  Mrs  Everett,  any 
grounds  for  such  accusation  other  than  a  foolish 
speech  about  wishing  the  man  was  dead  ?" 

"No,"  was  the  sulky  answer;  "that  is,  I  have  no 
definite  grounds,  but  I've  known  Letitia  Prall  for 
many  years  and  I  know  her  to  be  quite  capable  of 
murder  or  any  other  crime !" 

"A  belief  in  capability  is  not  evidence,"  said 
Wise,  sternly,  and  turned  to  Letitia. 

"Have  you,  Miss  Prall,  definite  evidence  against 
Mrs  Everett  that  you  accuse  her?" 

"She  wanted  the  man  dead " 

"That's  not  evidence!"  Wise  fairly  thundered; 
"answer  my  question." 

"Well,  then,  I've  no  eye-witness  proof  of  her 
crime,  but  I  do  know  that  her  daughter  was  out  in 
the  hall,  keeping  watch " 

"Keeping  watch  over  what — or  whom?" 

"Keeping  watch  to  see  that  the  way  was  clear; 
that  her  mother  might  return  unseen  from  the  ground 
floor  to  her  own  apartment  by  way  of  the  stairs." 

"You  mean  you  think  Mrs  Everett  walked  up 
seven  flights  of  stairs  after  the  deed?" 
[253] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"I  couldn't  do  it,"  admitted  plump  Mrs  Everett, 
drawing  deep  breaths  at  the  mere  thought  of  such  a 
thing. 

"Nonsense!"  retorted  Miss  Prall.  "There's  only 
six  flights,  and  they're  easy  steps.  But,  if  not  for 
that,  what  was  Dorcas  out  in  the  hall  for,  all  dressed, 
at  that  time  of  night?" 

"She  wasn't,  so  far  as  I  know/'  replied  the 
mother. 

"It  all  hinges  on  that,"  declared  Wise,  with  as 
much  earnestness  as  if  he  believed  himself  what  he 
was  saying. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  striving,  so  far  in  vain, 
to  gather  some  hint,  some  side  light  as  to  which  way 
to  look  for  the  criminal,  for  he  did  not  really  think 
either  of  these  women  guilty,  in  deed  or  intent 

"What  do  you  mean — all  hinges  on  that?"  Zizi 
asked,  in  rather  a  loud,  clear  tone. 

Wise  took  her  hint, — it  was  a  standing  arrange 
ment  with  them, — and  answered  in  an  equally  loud 
voice : 

"I  mean,  that  if  the  presence  of  Miss  Everett  in 
the  hall  that  night  can  be  innocently  explained,  it 
will  save  Mrs  Everett  from " 

"From  arrest !"  spoke  up  Letitia,  grimly. 

"Arrest!"  Mrs  Everett  gasped,  and  burst  into 
hysterical  weeping. 

Zizi's  covert  glance  toward  an  inner  door  was  re 
warded  and  Dorcas  flung  it  wide  open  and  ran  into 
the  room. 

[254] 


Testimony 

"I  can  explain  it !"  she  cried,  "I've  been  listening, 
and  I'll  tell.  I  was  in  the  hall  late  that  night,  but  it 
wasn't  as  late  as  two  o'clock.  Whoever  says  it  was 
tells  an  untruth.  I  was  in  the  hall  about  midnight 
to, — to  meet  somebody." 

"Me,"  said  Bates,  calmly.  "This  is  no  time  for 
hiding  any  facts.  I  wanted  to  see  Dorcas  on  a 
special  and  important  matter.  She  had  tried  all  the 
evening  to  get  away  from  her  mother  but  that  lady 
was  too  watchful,  so  Dorcas  sent  me  word  by  a 
maid  that  she  would  grant  me  a  moment's  interview 
in  the  hall  after  her  people  were  asleep.  This  she 
did,  and  while  we  have  no  wish  to  exploit  it,  yet  it 
was  nothing  wrong.  Dorcas  is  my  affianced  wife, 
and  as  her  mother  is  not  in  favor  of  our  union  it  has 
been  necessary  for  us  to  meet  clandestinely." 

"And  this  was  about  midnight?"  asked  Wise,  ap 
parently  not  interested  in  the  clandestine  part  of  it. 

"Yes,  not  any  later." 

"It  was  twelve  when  I  got  back  to  my  room," 
averred  Dorcas.  "Any  one  who  tells  a  different 
story  is  making  it  up." 

There  was  no  doubting  the  statement  of  the  clear 
young  voice  or  the  truth  stamped  on  the  sweet  young 
face,  and  all  present  believed  her. 

Mrs  Everett  forebore  to  chide,  so  interested  was 
she  in  learning  if  this  confession  would  clear  her 
from  suspicion. 

"We  must  look  up  the  girl  who  told  the  story," 
said  the  detective.  "The  statement  was  about  a 
[255] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


veiled  figure,  and  the  assertion  that  it  was  Miss 
Everett  was  not  from  a  dependable  source.  But  I 
believe  Miss  Everett  implicitly,  and  I  want  to  see 
about  some  other  details  before  I  go  further  in  the 
matter  at  all. 

"I'll  see  that  girl  who  told  you  the  yarn,  Penny," 
Zizi  said,  thoughtfully;  "you  go  and  look  up  those 
other  people, — you  know " 

"Very  well,  go  ahead.     It  was  Molly." 

"Of  course  it  was.  She's  a  News-Herald.  If 
you  want  to  know  anything  ask  Molly.  I'm  going 
to  ask  her  now." 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  volunteered  Dorcas,  looking 
a  little  nervous  and  agitated. 

"Come  along,"  said  Zizi,  smiling  at  her,  and  Zizi's 
smile  was  full  of  comfort  and  cheer. 

Mrs  Everett  began  to  say,  "Oh,  no,  my  child," 
but  before  she  could  protest  Dorcas  and  Zizi  had  left 
the  room. 

"You  see,"  Zizi  began  to  the  other  girl  as  they 
went  to  Zizi's  room,  "Molly  is  crooked." 

"Lame?" 

"No,"  and  Zizi  smiled  at  such  ignorance  of  crime 
slang.  "No,  that  means  she  isn't  honest  or,  rather, 
honorable.  She  makes  up  yarns  to  suit  herself,  and 
often  to  suit  some  one  else  who  pays  well  for  being 
suited.  Now,  we'll  get  her  in  here  and  quiz  her, 
and  you  say  little  or  nothing  at  first,  until  we  see 
what's  doing." 

[256] 


Testimony 

Molly  was  summoned  and  Zizi  began  in  a  straight 
forward  way : 

"Molly,  you  saw  some  one  in  the  halls  the  night 
of  the  Binney  murder.  You've  said  it  was  Miss 
Everett.  Here's  Miss  Everett,  do  you  still  say  so?" 

"Lord,  no,  Miss.  I've  found  out  who  it  was,  and 
it  was  a  man." 

"You  said  a  woman." 

"I  know  I  did,  but  I — I  made  a  mistake.  It  was 
sorta  dark,  you  know." 

"And  you  take  back  the  statement  that  you  saw  a 
woman?" 

"I  do,  miss." 

"Who  paid  you  to  do  that?" 

"Nobody,  miss."  Molly's  round,  blue  eyes  seemed 
truthful,  but  Zizi  was  not  sure. 

"Well,  now  that  you've  decided  you  saw  a  man, 
who  was  the  man?" 

"That  I  don't  know — for  sure." 

"Who  do  you  think  it  was, — or,  might  have 
been?" 

"I'm  not  saying, — for  why  should  I  make  trouble 
for  an  innercent  human  bein'  ?" 

"You're  stalling  until  you  see  whether  we'll  pay 
you  more  for  your  information  or  he'll  pay  you 
more  to  suppress  it!  Now,  you're  foolish  to  act 
like  that,  for  nine  chances  out  of  ten  it  was  an  inno 
cent  man,  anyway." 

"Oh,  no,  miss;  oh,  no!" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

[257] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"The  man  was  up  to  no  good.  He  was  searching 
in  Sir  Binney's  room." 

"Oh,  he  was.  Then  tell  us  his  name,  or  the  Law 
will  make  you  do  so." 

"You  ain't  the  Law,  miss.  I'll  be  goin'  now,  and 
when  the  Law  has  any  thin'  to  say  to  me,  lemmeno." 

"But  wait  a  moment,"  said  Dorcas ;  "just  tell  me 
this.  Did  the  man  get  what  he  wanted  from  Sir 
Herbert's  room?" 

"Yes, — I  mean,  I  don't  know.  How  should  I 
know?" 

Angry  at  the  slip  she  had  carelessly  made,  Molly 
ran  away  and  was  down  the  hall  and  around  a  cor 
ner  before  the  girls  realized  she  had  gone. 

"I  know  what  they're  after,"  said  Dorcas.  "Sup 
pose  I  tell  you, — and  perhaps  we  can  do  something 
to  help  along." 


[258] 


CHAPTER  XVII 
A  Woman  Scorned 

WHOEVER  was  searching  in  Sir  Herbert's 
room,"  Dorcas  began,  "was  after  that 
recipe  for  the  Binney  Buns." 

"What's  that?"  asked  Zizi,  to  draw  the  girl  on. 

"Why,  there's  a  special  recipe  for  the  buns,  of 
course,  and  it's  very  valuable, — the  buns  can't  be 
made  without  it, — and  I  can't  help  thinking  that  Mr. 
Crippen  or  some  messenger  of  his  has  been  hunting 
around  there  for  that  recipe." 

"Why  not  a  messenger  from  some  other  of  the 
bakeries  interested?  The  Popular  Popovers,  or 
whatever  it's  called, — or  Mr  Vail's  company  ?" 

"Maybe.  But  I  know  that  Mr  Vail  and  Sir  Her 
bert  decided  not  to  make  a  deal,  and  I  think  that 
Popular  company  also  decided  not  to.  Well,  any 
way,  I'm  sure  whoever  was  prowling  in  the  Binney 
apartment  was  in  search  of  that  recipe,  which  was 
hidden  there." 

"Well,  but  what  good  does  it  do  to  surmise  that? 
Or  even  to  know  that?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  thought  if  Mr  Wise  knew 
somebody  was  hunting  there  for  a  definite  purpose, 

[259] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


he  could  find  out  who  the  somebody  was,  and  it 
might  be  the  murderer." 

"A  woman, — or  women?" 

"No — I  suppose  not — and  yet,  why  not?  A  mes 
senger  from  the  bakery  people, — any  of  them, — of 
course,  could  be  a  woman, — one  of  the  maids,  or 
some  employee  of  the  house." 

"Suppose  we  go  and  search." 

"Look  here,  Miss  Everett,  you  are  a  sensi'  le  girl, 
and  I'm  going  to  speak  frankly.  You  kr  nv  that 
suspicion  now  is  directed  toward  the  aur :  of  Mr 
Bates  or " 

"Or  my  mother!  Yes,  I  do  know  it,  but  either 
supposition  is  so  ridiculous " 

"Wait  a  minute;  no  matter  how  ridiculous  a  sus 
picion  may  seem  to  the  people  involved,  it  must  be 
met  and  denied  or  it  remains.  Now,  if  suspicion  in 
the  two  directions  mentioned  are  so  absurd,  we  must 
prove  their  absurdity." 

"How?"  ' 

"Either  by  making  it  clear  that  the  suspected 
women  could  not  have  been  guilty  or,  better  still, 
finding  the  guilty  party." 

"Let's  do  that,  then !  I  know  my  mother  had  no 
hand  in  it, — and  I'm  equally  sure  that  Miss  Prall 
didn't " 

"But  your  surety  and  your  certainty  are  of  no 
evidential  value." 

"That's  why  I  say  let's  find  the  real  women !  You 
are  a  detective  just  as  much  as  Mr  Wise  is  one, — 
[260] 


I'm  an  interested  principal,  just  as  much  as  Richard 
Bates  is, — can't  we  do  something  big?" 

"Good!  That's  the  talk!  We'll  try,  at  least. 
Let's  go  to  the  Binney  rooms  now,  and  see  what  we 
can  see." 

"Small  chance  of  seeing  anything  in  rooms  that 
Mr  Wise  has  already  searched." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Set  a  woman  to  catch  a 
woman!  If  women  have  sought  and  found  that 
recipe,  we'll  find  their  traces.  If  it's  still  there,  we 
must  find  the  paper  ourselves." 

Zizi  looked  at  Dorcas  in  surprise. 

"You're  a  trump !"  she  exclaimed ;  "good  for  you ! 
Come  along,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do." 
'  The  two  girls  went  to  the  Binney  rooms  and  be 
gan  their  search.  But  it  seemed  useless  to  look 
through  papers  in  the  desk  or  books  on  the  book 
shelves  after  Wise  and  the  other  detectives  had  gone 
over  that  ground. 

"Was  Sir  Herbert  sly  and  canny?"  asked  Zizi, 
thoughtfully. 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed.  He  was  never  caught  napping. 
If  he  hid  that  paper,  he  hid  it  in  a  good  place.  It 
won't  be  found  easily.  We  must  think  of  some  in 
conspicuous  place, — in  the  back  of  a  picture,  or 
tacked  up  above  the  inside  of  a  drawer." 

"Clever  girl!"  and  Zizi's  admiration  increased. 
"Here  goes,  then." 

They  both  looked  in  all  such  places  as  Dorcas  had 
suggested,  but  with  no  success  at  all. 
[261] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


Wise  came  in  while  they  were  thus  busy,  and 
smiled  approval  at  the  work  in  progress. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  suddenly,  as  Dorcas  peered  be 
hind  a  picture  that  was  hung  low,  "the  wall  paper 
isn't  faded  at  all  in  this  room.  Must  be  new." 

"It  is,"  Dorcas  told  him.  "Sir  Herbert  had  this 
room  repapered  when  he  took  the  apartment." 

"Why?" 

"Said  he  didn't  like  the  paper  that  was  on." 

"And  yet  he  could  stand  that  frightful  Cubist 
nightmare  on  the  wall  of  the  bedroom !  H'm !  Well, 
well!  Very  interesting — ve-ry  interesting!  See, 
Ziz?" 

The  black  eyes  of  his  little  assistant  sparkled.  "Of 
course  I  do !  He  had  the  room  papered  in  order  to 
hide  his  precious  recipe." 

"Right !  Now,  we  may  have  to  peel  off  the  paper 
from  the  whole  room, — for  it's  not  probable  he 
kindly  left  it  folded,  in  order  to  help  us  along." 

Dorcas  listened  with  growing  surprise.  Here  was 
a  clever  detective,  indeed,  to  jump  to  this  important 
conclusion, — if  it  was  the  true  one. 

"Let's  feel  around,"  Zizi  said,  and  began  passing 
her  little  brown  paw  over  the  walls. 

"Not  in  plain  sight,  Ziz,"  said  Wise,  and  he  start 
ed  moving  out  a  bookcase  to  look  behind  it. 

They  felt  nothing  that  seemed  like  a  paper  be 
hind  the  wall  paper,  but  if  the  recipe  had  been  placed 
without  folding  at  all  it  would  doubtless  cause  no  ap 
preciable  extra  thickness. 

"Maybe  he  left  a  memorandum,"  suggested  Zizi, 
[262] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


"or  even  a  cryptogram  in  his  desk  telling  where  he 
hid  it." 

"Not  likely,"  said  Wise.  "You  see  he  wouldn't 
forget  and  he  had  no  reason  to  make  the  thing  clear 
to  anybody  else." 

"Molly  said  somebody  was  in  here  prowling," 
Dorcas  reminded,  "so  somebody  knew  there  was  a 
paper  to  look  for." 

"But  all  this  paper  business  presupposes  the  bread 
or  cake  people,  and  they  aren't  women,"  objected 
Wise. 

"That  paper  about  the  women  may  be  mislead 
ing,"  Zizi  said,  thoughtfully.  "They  may  have  been 
back  of  the  murder,  or,  on  the  otljer  hand,  they  may 
have  been  the  tools  of  men  responsible  for  the  mur 
der." 

"But  you  can't  get  away  from  women's  connec 
tion  with  the  crime.  Whether  directly  or  indirectly 
guilty,  they  are  the  people  to  look  for, — they  are  our 
quarry,  and  they  must  be  found." 

Dorcas  paled  and  her  red  lower  lip  quivered.  "Oh, 
Mr  Wise,"  she  begged,  "do  be  careful !  It  would  be 
so  awful  if  you  suspected  innocent  women  just  be 
cause  of  the  paper!  Even  granting  it  is  a  genuine 
dying  message,  it  may  mean  so  many  things " 

She  broke  down  and  Zizi  ran  to  her  and  threw  her 
arms  around  the  shaking  form. 

"Come,  dear,"  she  said;  "you're  all  unstrung; 
don't  look  around  here  any  more  now.  If  there's  a 
paper  to  be  found,  Penny  will  find  it." 

She  led  Dorcas  away  and  took  her  back  to  her 
[263'] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


own  home,  and,  urging  her  to  lie  down,  she  soothed 
the  throbbing  forehead  with  her  magnetic  finger-tips 
and  soon  Dorcas  fell  asleep. 

Zizi  tiptoed  from  the  girl's  bedroom,  and  en 
countered  Mrs  Everett  on  her  way  out. 

"Do  sit  down,  Miss  Zizi,"  the  lady  urged.  "I'm 
pining  for  some  one  to  talk  to.  Tell  me  now,  do  you 
think  Letitia  Prall  is  at  the  back  of  all  this  ?  Not  of 
course,  the  actual  criminal,  but  in  any  way  impli 
cated?" 

The  plump  little  blonde  lady  fluttered  about  and 
finally  settled  herself  among  some  cushions  on  a 
couch  and  turned  an  inquisitive  gaze  on  her  visitor. 

"What  would  be  her  motive?"  Zizi  parried.  "To 
say  she  did  it  for  young  Bates'  sake  sounds  poppy 
cock  to  me." 

"Me,  too,"  and  Mrs  Everett  smiled.  "If  she  did 
it,  she  had  a  deeper  motive  than  that !  A  more  dis 
graceful  one." 

"Meaning?" 

"Well, — not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  upon  it, — 
breach  of  promise!" 

"Was  there  such  a  breach  ?" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  saying, — but  Letitia  certainly  wanted 
to  marry  Sir  Herbert " 

"Why,  I  thought  he  was  your  admirer " 

"Oh,  well,"  and  the  lady  bridled,  "I'm  not  saying 
anything  about  that — but  if  he  did  admire  me,  that 
doesn't  mean  I  smiled  on  him.  I'm  no  husband 
hunter, — and  poor  Letitia  is  and  always  has  been — 
without  success,  poor  thing!" 
[264] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


"And  it  went  as  far  as  an  engagement?" 

"I  only  surmise  that  from  what  Miss  Prall  has 
hinted — not,  I  must  say,  from  anything  poor  Sir 
Herbert  said!  But  you  know  what  old  maids 
are " 

"How  comes  it  that,  while  you  and  Miss  Prall  are 
at  such  odds,  you  have  the  same  admirers  ?  I'm  told 
Mr  Crippen  is  a  beau  of  both." 

Zizi  sensed  the  widow's  willingness  to  exploit  her 
conquests  and  utilized  the  knowledge. 

"Oh,  he  didn't  care  for  Letitia!  He  was  rather 
polite  to  me,  but  I  had  to  discourage  him.  One 
can't  be  too  careful.  And  if  you  give  a  man  a  kindly 
smile,  he  thinks  he  may  presume  on  it." 

"Was  Sir  Herbert  like  that?" 

"Yes,  indeed !  Although  he  was  Richard's  uncle, 
he  was  no  kin  to  Richard's  aunt  Letitia,  and  he 
didn't  hesitate  to  tell  me  how  little  he  admired  that 
Grenadier  type  of  woman." 

"Preferring  more  feminine  natures?" 

"Yes,"  Mrs  Everett  preened  herself.  "How  you 
do  understand,  Miss  Zizi!  I  expect  you're  a  heart- 
breaker  yourself." 

"Oh,  rather!"  and  Zizi's  big  dark  eyes  rolled  rogu 
ishly.  "But  I  say,  Mrs  Everett,  if  this  breach  of 
promise  case  is  a  true  bill,  it's  a  straw  to  show  wrhich 
way  the  wind  might  have  blown, — at  least." 

"Well,  don't  quote  me, — but  I  do  know  Letitia 
Prall's  nature  and  you  know  it's  said,  'Hell  hath  no 
fury  like  a  woman  scorned.' ' 

Zizi  faced  her  squarely  and  with  a  sharp  look  said, 
[265] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"You  know,   Mrs  Everett,  you're  making  a  very 

grave  accusation.     Do  you  really  think  Miss  Prall 
js » 

"Yes,  I  do!  That  man  was  killed.  He  said 
women  did  it.  There  are  no  women  sufficiently  in 
terested  in  his  death  to  be  suspected  of  it  except 
Letitia  and  Eliza  Gurney.  So,  much  as  I  hate  to 
think  so  dreadfully  of  any  woman,  I've  no  choice 
but  to  suspect  them.  Of  course,  it's  a  grave  ac 
cusation,  but  you  asked  me  and  it's  my  duty  to  say 
what  I' think." 

From  all  this  Zizi  gleaned  one  bit  of  satisfaction. 
She  felt  positive  that  Mrs  Everett  herself  was  inno 
cent.  She  had  never  really  suspected  the  little  widow 
but  her  name  had  been  mentioned  as  a  possible  sus 
pect,  and  Zizi  wondered.  Now,  she  decided  that, 
whatever  might  be  true  about  Letitia  Prall,  Mrs 
Everett  could  not,  were  she  guilty  herself,  talk  the 
way  she  did  about  her  enemy.  Not  so  much  the 
accusation  as  tbe  way  it  was  said.  Had  Mrs  Ev 
erett  killed  the  man,  or  assisted  or  directed  the  mur 
der,  she  would  have  shown  fear,  secretiveness,  or  at 
least  a  harassed  demeanor.  Instead  of  which,  she  had 
apparently  no  interest  in  the  matter  save  a  vindictive 
desire  to  see  her  enemy  in  the  clutches  of  the  law. 

Anyway,  thought  Zizi,  I  cross  her  off  from  my 
list  of  suspects,  and  now  for  the  Prall  side  of  the 
story. 

Leaving  the  Everett  apartment  Zizi  went  up  the 
stairs  to  the  eighth  floor,  and  though  she  was  headed 
for  Letitia  Frail's,  she  paused  at  the  Binney  rooms. 
[266] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


"Come  in,"  called  Wise,  as  the  sleek  black  little 
head  peeped  in  at  the  door ;  "I've  struck  it !" 

"Where?"  asked  Zizi,  intuitively  knowing  that  he 
had  found  the  hiding  place  of  the  paper. 

"Here,"  and  Wise  drew  her  attention  to  a  fairly 
large  mirror  that  was  above  the  mantel  in  the  sitting- 
room. 

"Why,  that  thing  was  screwed  fast,"  the  girl  said, 
"and  we  couldn't  move  it." 

"I  unscrewed  it — and,  behold." 

Loosening  the  screws,  which  he  had  only  partially 
readjusted,  Wise  lifted  down  the  mirror,  and  dis 
closed  a  rectangular  space  where  the  wall  paper  had 
been  cut  away." 

"The  bakery  men!"  Zizi  cried.  "Why  'women,' 
then?" 

"Now,  look  here,  Ziz,"  and  Wise  replaced  the  mir 
ror,  "get  it  in  your  head  that  women  may  have  been 
interested  in  getting  this  recipe.  To  suppose  a 
woman  may  have  been  acting  for  a  man,  while  pos 
sible,  is  not  probable." 

"Why  not?  Suppose  a  woman,  say  a  working 
girl,  so  devoted  to  a  man  that  she'd  commit  murder 
at  his  bidding " 

"No  man  could  be  such  a  coward  as  that !" 

"Oh,  Penny,  what  an  exalted  opinion  you  have  of 
your  sex !  Of  course  he  could !  A  man  who  would 
murder  would  use  a  woman  to  help  him  murder. 
Of  course  he  offered  a  big  inducement, — marriage., 
maybe " 


"You're  romancing- 


[267] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"No,  I'm  not;  I'm  reconstructing.  I  see  a  man 
wanting  that  recipe  desperately.  He  sets  a  woman 
to  get  it.  He  may  not  have  meant  her  to  go  to  such 
lengths  as  murder,  to  get  it,  but " 

"All  right,  but  stick  to  facts.  The  recipe  has 
been  stolen  by  some  one  in  the  know.  Some  one 
who  realized  why  Sir  Herbert  had  his  room  re- 
papered " 

"Clever  trick,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,  but  unnecessary.  He  could  have  put  the 
thing  in  safe  deposit." 

"Englishmen  are  queer  that  way.  And  he  may 
have  distrusted  oiir  American  institutions " 

"Well,  anyway,  there's  no  doubt  he  did  hide  the 
paper  behind  the  new  wall  paper,  and  there's  no 
doubt  somebody  has  stolen  it.  I  suppose  you  agree 
to  that?" 

"Yea,  my  lord !  But  it  may  have  been  taken  after 
the  murder." 

"Of  course  it  was.     Why  kill  the  man,  else?" 

"Why  kill  him  at  all?" 

"To  get  him  out  of  the  way,  in  order  to  get  the 
recipe  and  manufacture  the  buns." 

"For  whom?" 

"That's  just  it.  There  are  several  bakeries  inter 
ested, — others  beside  the  principal  ones,  of  which  we 
know.  Now  we  must  find  out  which  baker  could 
have  worked  his  deadly  scheme  through  women." 

"Does  this  let  out  the  Prall  or  Everett  suspects?" 

"To  my  mind,  yes.  But  I  never  suspected  them, 
anyway." 

I  268  ] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


"Nor  I.  And  I've  exonerated  Mrs  Everett  to  my 
satisfaction,  and  I'm  going  to  find  out  for  sure  about 
the  Grenadier.  Now,  there's  that  Molly, " 

"Yes,  she's  in  it,  up  to  the  neck,  I  believe.  And 
she's  such  a  liar " 

"Oh,  Penny,  you  can't  let  a  lady  liar  fool  you,  can 
you?  Get  her  up  here,  and  put  her  through  an  in 
quisition.  I'll  tell  you  if  she's  telling  truth  or  not." 

"Yes,  you're  first  class  at  that." 

Molly  was  summoned  and  when  she  appeared 
Zizi  saw  at  once  something  had  happened.  The 
girl's  demeanor  was  entirely  changed.  She  was 
more  self-important  and  self-assertive,  and  Zizi 
wondered  if  she  had  learned  something  definite 
against  some  suspect. 

"Molly,"  began  Wise,  "we've  found  that  some 
one  has  been — prowling  round  in  here,  just  as  you 
said, — and  you  are  to  tell  us  who  it  was." 

"That  I  don't  know,  sir,"  the  girl  replied,  speak 
ing  with  a  flippancy  that  was  careless  and  almost 
impertinent. 

"Then  tell  us  all  you  do  know.  Was  it  a  man  or 
a  woman  ?" 

"A  woman,  sir." 

"Why,  Molly !"  Zizi  cried,  "you  told  me  it  was  a 
man,  and  ttfat  he  was  up  to  no  good.  Those  were 
your  very  words." 

"Oh,  no,  you  don't  remember  correctly.  I  said 
it  was  a  woman." 

"That  is  an  untruth,"  Zizi  stated,  calmly.  "So, 
now  we  know  you  are  telling  us  falsehoods,  we  must 
[269] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


find  out  why.  Has  some  one  paid  you  for  it  ?  We 
will  pay  you  more  for  the  truth.  Might  as  well, 
Penny.  This  girl  only  sells  her  statements,  true  or 
false." 

"All  right,  Molly.  But  we  only  want  to  buy 
the  true  ones.  Now,  what'll  you  take  for  all  you 
really  know  about  the  matter,  and  guarantee  to  be 
the  strict  truth?" 

"I  don't  want  any  pay.  And  the  truth  is  that  the 
person  I  saw  was  a  lady — I  mean  a  woman." 

"Care  to  mention  names  ?" 

"I  don't  know  who  it  was.  I  just  saw  a  veiled 
figure " 

"Cut  out  the  veiled  figure!"  cried  Zizi.  "You're 
making  it  up.  There  never  was  any  veiled  figure, 
— you  saw  a  man  hunting  around  here,  while  you 
were  hidden  in  the  bathroom.  You  know  he  was 
looking  for  something  of  value  hidden  in  these 

rooms.    And "    Zizi's  black  eyes  fairly  seemed 

to  bore  into  Molly's  own  as  she  went  on,  "you  know 
he  got  it.  Also,  you  know  who  the  man  was, — and 
you  won't  tell,  and  you  say  it  was  a  woman,  because 
— because  what,  Molly?" 

"I   don't — I   mean "     Molly   blushed  scarlet 

and  dropped  her  eyes ;  then,  with  a  revived  bravado, 
she  cried,  "It  was  a  woman, — I  tell  you  it  was  a 
woman !" 

"Stop  lying!"  said  Zizi  sternly,  "she's  doing  that. 
Pen,  because  the  man  she  saw  has  ordered  her  to." 

"No,  he  hasn't,"  Molly  declared,  but  Zizi  said: 
[270] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


"Yes,  he  has,  and  what's  more,  he  has  bribed  you 
by—" 

Zizi's  penetrating  glance  overcame  Molly's  bold 
ness  and  she  trembled  in  silence  as  Zizi  said,  "by 
marriage !" 

Even  Wise  looked  up  in  amazement;  "What  do 
you  mean,  Zizi?" 

"Just  what  I  say.  Molly  is  wearing  a  very  bright, 
new  wedding  ring.  She  didn't  have  it  yesterday. 
Molly  knows  the  truth  we're  looking  for,  and  she 
won't  tell  because  it  implicates  a  man  who  has  mar 
ried  her  to  keep  her  quiet !  Is  it  Bob  Moore,  Molly." 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  the  girl,  in  a  low  tone,  and 
with  a  very  apparent  look  of  relief. 

"Then  it  isn't,"  said  Zizi  triumphantly;  "I  know 
by  the  way  you  speak !  Who  is  it  ?" 

"It  isn't  anybody,"  Molly  said,  but  she  said  it  with 
a  furtive  glance  at  their  faces  in  turn;  with  a  hesi 
tating  air  of  uncertainty  as  to  what  course  to  take; 
with  a  futile  attempt  at  her  old  impudent  manner. 
"I'm  not  really  married ;  lots  of  us  girls  wear  a  wed 
ding  ring  to  fool  people." 

"Rubbish!"  said  Zizi,  contemptuously.  "There's 
no  sense  in  that !  You  are  married, — or,  you  think 
you  are — aha,  I  thought  so!" 

For  Molly's  scared  glance  betokened  that  Zizi  had 
struck  on  the  truth.  Quite  evidently  she  was  appre 
hensive  lest  the  aspersion  should  prove  a  correct  one. 
"He  married  you  in  an  extremity  of  fear, — fear 
that  you  would  tell  of  his  visit  to  the  room, — now, 
who  could  it  be,  Penny?  It's  easy  enough  to  judge 
[271] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


if  we  guess  right, — but  I  can't  think  of  any  one.  It 
must  be  some  employe  of  the  house, — or " 

"Or  some  tool  of  some  of  the  bakery  people,"  said 
Wise. 

"Look  higher,"  jeered  Molly,  her  self-confidence 
returning,  as  she  realized  their  uncertainty. 

"Good  heavens!"  cried  Zizi,  "you  can't  mean 
Richard  Bates !" 

"Yep,"  said  Molly,  and  her  eyes  danced  with  a 
wicked  glee. 

"Oh,  incredible!"  wailed  Zizi.  "Yet  I've  been 
afraid  of  him  all  along.  You  see,  he's  shielding  his 
aunt.  I'm  sure  Miss  Prall  is " 

"You  said  you  didn't  believe  her  guilty,"  spoke 
up  Wise. 

"I  know  I  did,  but  what  other  way  can  we  turn? 
It  can't  be  any  less  important  person  who  married 
Molly  to  shut  her  up.  There  can't  be  any  reason 
that  would  make  Bates  do  so,  but  to  shield  his  aunt 
from  suspicion.  Molly  says  now  it  was  a  woman 
searching  the  room, — of  course,  she  didn't  want  the 
recipe, — that's  a  side  issue;  she  wanted  some  letters 
or  something  in  connection  with  the  breach  of 
promise " 

"Come,  come,  Ziil,  you  can't  take  that  little 
yellow-topped  widow's  yarn  of  a  breach  of  promise 
too  seriously " 

"Why  not?  She  is  innocent  herself,  I  know. 
She  suspects  Miss  Prall,  I  know.  She  gave  a  per 
fectly  good  motive, — why,  Pen,  if  women  killed  that 
man  where's  another  motive  that  can  hold  a  candle 
[272] 


A  Woman  Scorned 


to  the  'woman  scorned'  idea?  Come,  Molly,  own 
up;  was  it  Miss  Prall  searching  the  room?" 

"Oh,  no,  miss!"  and  Molly's  eyes  bulged  with 
such  real  surprise  that  there  was  no  doubting  her 
sincerity  this  time. 

"But  how  could  you  tell,  if  the  figure  was  a  veiled 
one?"  asked  Wise. 

"Oh,  I  could  tell  it  wasn't  Miss  Prall, — gracious, 
no!" 

"What  was  the — the  person  looking  for, — I  mean 
where  was  the  search  made?" 

"All  around.1' 

"In  the  desk?" 

"Yes,  and  in  the  table  drawers  and  the  cupboards, 
— and — and — everywhere."  Molly  waved  a  vague 
hand  about  the  room. 

"And  behind  the  mirror?"  Wise  sprang  this  at 
her  suddenly. 

The  girl's  face  blanched.  "How — what  made  you 
think  of  that?"  she  gasped,  her  voice  quaking  with 
fear. 

"Ah,  that  brings  back  the  picture,  does  it?  You 
saw  the — the  person,  hunting  about ;  you  saw  him  go 
to  the  mirror,  gaze  at  it  thoughtfully,  then  unscrew 
it,  and  then — then  he  succeeded  in  his  search?  Eh?" 

"Yes,"  Molly  breathed,  fairly  hypnotized  into  the 
truth  by  Wise's  suggestive  air  and  tense,  compelling 
voice. 


[273] 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

Fitted  to  a  T 
t 

NOW,  look  here,  Molly,"  and  Wise  fixed  her 
with  his  piercing  gaze,  "you  say  Richard 
Bates  married  you.  I  don't  believe  it  for  a 
minute,  but  I  do  believe  somebody  married  you,  or 
pretended  to,  to  keep  your  mouth  shut  on  an  impor 
tant  matter.  It  may  have  been  Bob  Moore,  or 

but  I'm  going  to  find  out  who  it  was,  and  I'm  going 
to  find  out  now.  If,  as  you  say,  it  was  Richard 
Bates,  why  did  he  do  it?" 

Molly  gulped  in  a  scared,  desperate  fashion  and 
her  eyes  rolled  wildly  about  as  she  replied,  "To 
shield  somebody  else." 

"Who?"  Zizi  snapped  at  her. 

"You  know  well  enough,"  the  girl  sullenly  an 
swered. 

"But  you  said  it  was  not  Mr  Bates'  aunt." 

"Oh,  no,  it  wasn't." 

"Then,— it  was " 

"Yes,  it  was." 

"Dorcas  Everett,  she  means,"  Zizi  said,  scorn 
fully.  "As  well  accuse  me !  You  must  know,  Molly, 
you  can't  put  over  any  such  a  bluff  as  that!" 

"All  right,  you  needn't  believe  it  if  you  don't 
[274] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

want  to.  But  Miss  Everett  and  her  mother  are  the 
'women'  you  are  after." 

"That  child  couldn't  do  such  a  thing!" 

"Oh,  she  didn't  do  anything  but  obey  her  mother's 
orders  blindly.  Mrs  Everett  and  her  maid,  Kate 
Holland,  committed  the  murder  and  Dorcas  kept 
watch  in  the  hall  without  knowing  why  she  was  do 
ing  it.  Now,  Mr  Bates  knows  all  about  it, — and 
he  knows  that  I  know.  And  I  said  I'd  tell  if  he 
didn't  marry  me,  so  rather  than  have  his  girl  accused, 
or  his  girl's " 

"Zizi,  why  do  we  listen  to  this  pack  of  lies?"  ex 
claimed  Wise.  "This  girl  is  making  up  as  fast  as 
she  can  talk, " 

"Indeed  I'm  not!"  cried  Molly,  seemingly  in  des 
peration;  "I  can  prove  all  I'm  saying!  Here's  my 
wedding  ring " 

"Yes,  but  Mr  Bates  didn't  give  it  to  you,"  said 
Zizi,  scornfully.  "I  know  who  did,  though,  and  if 
you'll  own  up  it  will  be  better  for  you." 

Now  Zizi  didn't  know  at  all, — in  fact,  she  wasn't 
sure  that  Molly  hadn't  bought  the  ring  herself,  but 
both  Wise  and  Zizi  were  at  a  loss  to  know  which 
way  to  turn  next,  and  they  were  omitting  no  possible 
chance  at  a  stray  bit  of  information. 

"How  do  you  know?"  demanded  Molly,  and  again 
she  looked  frightened. 

"Now,  see  here,  Molly,"  Wise  tried  again,  "if 
you'll  tell  us  the  truth  you'll  be  rewarded.  But  if 
you  don't,  you'll  not  only  lose  your  reward  but  you'll 

[275] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


find  yourself  in  the  biggest  pickle  you've  ever  been 
in." 

"I'm  not  afraid,"  was  the  pert  reply.  "My  hus 
band  will  look  after  me." 

"Yes,  if  he  is  your  husband,"  Zizi  jeered,  and 
saw  again  that  Molly's  greatest  fear  was  that  the 
wedding  had  not  been  a  real  one. 

Therefore,  Zizi  argued,  there  had  been  a  cere 
mony  and  why  would  it  have  taken  place  except  to 
shut  Molly's  mouth  ?  And  who  could  have  been  the 
bridegroom  except  the  one  interested  in  suppressing 
Molly's  secret,  whatever  it  might  be? 

"Clear  out,  Molly,"  said  Wise,  suddenly.  "Don't 
clear  far,  for  if  you  try  to  leave  this  house  you'll 
be  arrested.  Merely  go  about  your  work  as  usual, 
and  say  nothing  to  anybody.  If  you'll  take  my 
advice  you'll  run  pretty  straight,  for  I  don't  mind 
telling  you  you're  in  deep  waters !" 

"It's  a  bad  lookout,  Ziz,"  said  Wise  after  Molly 
had  gone;  "any  way  you  take  it  it  comes  back  to 
either  the  Pralls  or  the  Everetts.  There's  no  other 
bunch  of  women  implicated.  I've  been  into  every 
thing  thoroughly  and  if  we  go  by  that  written  mes 
sage  of  Binney's, — and  how  can  we  ignore  it? — 
we've  got  to  get  women,  and  the  women  are 
the " 

"The  Everetts,"  said  Zizi  moodily. 

"Oh,  no,  the  Pralls!" 

"When    you    say    the    Pralls,    you    mean    Miss 
Letitia  and  Miss  Gurney,  I  suppose." 
[276] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

"Rather  Miss  Gurney  and  Miss  Letitia.  If  they 
did  it,  the  Gurney  woman  struck  the  blow  at  the 
bidding  of  the  other.  If  the  Everetts  did  it,  the 
Holland  woman  stabbed  at  the  order  of  her  mis 
tress.  But  I  incline  to  the  Pralls,  and  that  explains 
Bates'  anxiety  to  shield  his  aunt:" 

"He'd  be  equally  desirous  of  shielding  his  sweet 
heart's  people,  but  in  any  case,  I  can't  believe  he 
married  Molly,  either  really  or  by  a  fake  ceremony." 

"It  isn't  like  the  chap, — he's  an  all-round  straight 
one;  but  he's  young,  and  in  a  desperate  emergency, 
— well,  anyway,  things  must  be  brought  to  a  head. 
I'm  going  for  Bates  now." 

The  detective  found  his  quarry  and  asked  him 
for  an  interview. 

The  two  men  went  into  a  small  reception-room  on 
the  ground  floor  and  Wise  closed  the  door. 

"There's  no  use  in  my  going  on,  Mr  Bates,"  he 
began,  "unless  you  want  to  see  the  thing  through  to 
a  finish.  I  must  tell  you  the  evidences  are  pointing 
to  women, — whom  you  would  be  sorry  to  see  ac 
cused." 

"I  know — I  know "  and  Richard  bowed  his 

head  in  his  hands  and  groaned.  "It  isn't  my  aunt, 
I'm  positive  of  that.  I've  not  only  satisfied  myself 
by  confidential  talks  with  her,  but  I've  proved  it  by 
definite  facts  and  testimony  of  servants  and  others. 
Now,  I  suppose  you  hold  that  the  only  other  possi 
bility  is 'r 

"Yes,  I'm  obliged  to  think  that.    I  know  what  you 

[277] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


mean,  and  this  is  no  time  to  be  squeamish.  We  both 
mean  Mrs  Everett  and  her  maid,  Kate.  If  there 
were  any  doubt  about  the  written  paper, " 

"There  isn't.  It's  my  uncle's  writing,  undeniably. 
He  was  found  with  the  pencil  just  falling  from  his 
nerveless  hand.  There's  no  escape  from  all  that. 
I've  been  over  and  over  it.  There's  no  chance  of 
the  chorus  girls  or  house  girls, — oh,  I've  been  over 
all  the  possibilities, — and  there's  only  Mrs  Everett 
left.  Honestly,  Wise,  I'd  rather  it  had  been  my 
aunt!  That  may  sound  dreadful  to  you,  but  after 
all,  she's  only  my  aunt,  while  Mrs  Everett  is  Dorcas' 
mother!  And  I'd  rather  bear  sorrow  and  disgrace 
myself  than  to  have  my  little  love  bear  it.  Can  we 
drop  the  whole  thing?" 

"Not  very  well  now.  Bates,  are  you  in  any  coil 
with  Molly?" 

"Molly?    The  chambermaid?    No.     Why?" 

"Good!  I  believe  you.  She  says  you  married 
her." 

"What  does  she  say  that  for?  Is  she  crazy?  But 
it  doesn't  bother  me;  I've  troubles  of  my  own.  I 
can't  think  anybody  will  believe  her." 

"No ;  she  said  it  to  shield  some  one  else.  And  of 
course,  a  man.  So,  that's  our  one  hope.  Who  is 
that  man?" 

"What  matter?    We're  looking  for  a  woman." 

"But  the  man  might  be  a  help.    Why  could  Molly 
make  a  man  marry  her,  unless  he  were  desperately 
afraid  of  what  she  could  tell  ?" 
[278] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

"But  it  may  all  have  no  connection  with  our  case." 

"I've  got  a  hunch  it  has.  And  I'm  going  to  find 
out.  And,  first  of  all,  I  want  to  go  over  the  ground 
again  of  scrutinizing  the  place  where  Sir  Herbert 
died." 

"No  evidence  there.  The  floors  have  been 
scrubbed  many  times." 

"But  the  marks  remain." 

The  marks  that  had  been  drawn  round  the  blood 
spots  at  the  scene  of  the  crime  were  still  faintly 
visible,  and  Wise  knelt  down  to  study  them.  It 
seemed  utterly  useless  to  Bates,  for  what  could  pos 
sibly  be  gained  from  scrutinizing  the  floor  where 
the  dead  man  had  lain? 

Yet  Pennington  Wise  found  something ! 

The  body  had  fallen  at  the  base  of  one  of  the  great 
onyx  columns,  near  the  side  wall  of  the  lobby.  In 
fact,  the  head  and  shoulders  had  fallen  against  the 
wall,  as  if  the  victim  had  been  driven  back  by  his 
pursuers  till  he  could  go  no  farther. 

And,  after  scanning  the  floor,  ,Wise's  eyes  traveled 
on  to  the  onyx  wall  itself,  to  the  heavy  surbase  of 
wide,  smooth  onyx  blocks,  and  on  the  pinkish, 
mottled  surface  his  trained  eyes  descried  a  pencil 
mark. 

"Gee !"  he  cried,  explosively,  "oh,  I  say !" 

Quickly  he  ran  for  the  paper  the  dead  man  left, 
stripped  from  it  the  protecting  glass  panes,  and  with 
the  utmost  care  he  laid  the  paper  itself  against  the 
onyx  block  that  showed  a  pencil  mark. 
[279] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


His  eyes  bulged  with  surprise,  his  face  flushed 
with  excitement,  and  he  jumped  up  from  the  floor, 
where  he  had  pursued  his  quest  unnoticed  save  for 
a  disinterested  passer-by. 

"Bates!"  he  cried,  as  he  returned  to  the  little  re 
ception-room  and  found  the  young  man  still  there 
'and  still  in  deep  dejection,  "Oh,  Bates!" 

"What?"  and  Richard  lifted  his  head  to  see  the 
excited  detective  brandishing  the  paper  in  a  wave 
of  triumph. 

"What  do  you  think?  Listen,  man,  put  your 
whole  mind  on  this!  When  Sir  Herbert  was 
stabbed  he  fell  to  the  floor." 

"Yes." 

"He  rolled  over  toward  the  wall, — or  fell  against 
the  wall, — and  he  had  just  sufficient  strength  left 
to  get  a  pencil  and  a  scrap  of  paper  out  of  his  pocket 
and  write  that  message." 

"Yes, — good  heavens,  Wise,  I  know  all  that !" 

"Sure  you  do.  Well,  now  hark.  He  didn't  place 
that  paper  on  the  floor  to  write  on  it;  he  held  it 
up  against  the  wall." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  and  part  of  the  writing, — the  first  part, 
fell  on  the  wall  and  not  on  the  paper " 

"What!"  shouted  Bates.  "What  was  it?  Does 
it  change  the  meaning?" 

"Does  it !  Well,  rather !  The  part  on  the  wall  is 

one  letter, — the  initial  letter  of  what  he  wrote " 

[280] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

"What  was  it?  Tell  me,  Wise,  don't  keep  me  in 
suspense!" 

"I  don't  mean  to.    It  was  a  T, — a  capital  T." 

"Well?    I  don't  see " 

"Why,  it  makes  the  message  read  'Two  men  did 
this/  instead  of  'women  did  this.'  The  words  are 
run  together,  for  he  couldn't  lift  the  pencil " 

"He  always  did  that, — his  writing  always  shows 
connected  words !" 

"So,  there's  the  message  as  clear  as  print!  The 
T  on  the  onyx  just  fits  to  the  first  mark  on  the 
paper, — any  one  can  see  that, — and  we  have  the 
dying  statement,  'Two  men  did  this.'  With  what  is 
undoubtedly  the  further  instruction,  'get  both'." 

"What  a  revelation !    Who  can  they  be  ?" 

'''It  ought  to  be  easy  to  find  out.  They  are,  of 
course,  some  of  the  bakery  men.  And  Sir  Herbert's 
idea  was  that  doubtless  one  would  be  apprehended, 
but  for  us  to  get  both  of  them." 

"And  the  women  are  out  of  it !" 

"Ab — so — lute — ly!  But  we  must  go  warily. 
You  see,  the  guilty  men  have  been  glad  to  hide  be 
hind  the  idea  of  'women'  which  came  to  their  res 
cue  by  the  merest  chance.  It's  all  so  easily  under 
stood  now.  Sir  Herbert,  with  dying  effort  and  fail 
ing  eyesight,  wrote  hurriedly,  and  efficient,  though 
he  was,  his  haste  made  him  begin  his  writing  off  the 
paper  instead  of  on  it.  His  habit  of  connecting 
words,  or  his  inability  from  weakness  to  lift  his  pen 
cil,  made  the  words  'Two  men,'  the  capital  missing, 
[281] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


seem  to  be  'women.'  Think  how  delighted  the  two 
men  must  have  been  at  this !  I  doubt  if  they  realized 
what  did  happen, — more  likely  they  thought  Sir 
Herbert  denounced  women  for  some  reason  of  his 
own.  Now,  to  catch  them  we  must  walk  delicately, 
like  Scriptural  Agag,  and  spring  on  them  unawares." 

"Which  way  shall  we  look?" 

"Take  the  Bakery  men  in  turn.  Crippen  first,  I 
should  say." 

"Vail?" 

"Vail's  out  of  it.  You  see,  he  was  in  the  elevator 
with  Moore  when  it  happened." 

"Unless  Vail  and  Moore  were  the  two  men,  and 
trumped  up  the  whole  story." 

"I  don't  think  that.  Moore's  no  criminal ;  he  had 
no  motive,  and  the  whole  weight  of  evidence  and 
testimony  goes  to  prove  Moore  truly  interested  in 
the  solution  of  the  mystery.  He's  worked  harder 
on  it  than  you  know.  I've  watched  him.  No,  Bob 
Moore  is  not  the  man!  And  that  lets  Vail  out." 

"Well,  then — but  I  won't  suggest.  You  can  dic 
tate." 

"First  let's  get  Zizi  and  tell  her." 

The  girl  was  summoned  and  when  Wise  told  her 
what  he  had  found  her  big,  black  eyes  danced  with 
delight. 

"Who's  the  criminal,  Zizi  ?"  asked  Wise. 

"The  man  who  married  Molly,"-  she  returned, 
promptly.  "Also  the  man  who  hunted  and  found 
the  recipe.  Molly  saw  him  doing  that,  and  made 
[282] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

him  marry  her  or  she'd  tell.  If  he  could  contrive  a 
mock  marriage  of  course  he  did.  Or  it  may  have 
been  a  real  one.  That  doesn't  matter.  It's  his 
identity  that  matters.  Two  men !  That  man,  then, 
and  another." 

"Vail's  out  of  it,"  Wise  informed  her,  and  told 
why.  "Then,  there's  Crippen, " 

"No";  Zizi  interrupted,  "don't  go  further  afield. 
It's — wait  a  minute, — get  Bob  Moore  in  here." 

This  was  accomplished  and  Zizi  did  the  interro 
gating. 

Care  was  taken  not  to  divulge  the  new  evidence 
and  when  Zizi  asked  him  to  detail  his  actions  at  the 
exact  time  of  the  crime,  the  man  wonderingly  re 
counted  his  oft-told  tale. 

"Did  Mr  Vail  seem  about  as  usual  when  he  was 
talking  to  you,  going  up  in  the  elevator?"  Zizi 
asked,  casually. 

"Yes,  but  very  chummy  and  talkative,  more  so 
man  I  ever  knew  him  to  be  before." 

"Yes?  Ahd  did  he  detain  you  at  this  floor, — or 
did  you  keep  him,  talking  about  the  detective  story 
you  were  reading?" 

"Why,  I  don't  know.  Come  to  think  of  it, — I 
should  say  he  detained  me, — for  he  was  so  inter 
ested, — and,  too,  I  never  would  have  presumed  to 
talk  to  him  so  familiarly  if  he  hadn't  egged  me  on." 

"Think  back,  now.  Did  he  really  keep  you  from 
going  back  by  talking  to  you?  Could  you  say  he 
did  that  purposely?" 

[283] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


"I  can  say  that  may  have  been  the  case,"  Moore 
averred,  thinking  hard.  "But  he  seemed  really  in 
terested " 

"As  he  never  had  been  before,"  commented  Zizi, 
and  adding,  "and  as  he  never  has  been  since?" 

"No;  he's  never  been  so  chummy  with  me  since. 
I've  tried  to  talk  to  him  about  the  Binney  murder 
case,  but  he  almost  snubbed  me, — at  least  he  shut 
me  off  mighty  quick." 

"That's  all,  Moore,  and  not  a  word  to  any  one 
of  anything  that  has  been  said  in  this  room !" 

"Now,"  said  Zizi,  after  Moore  had  disappeared, 
"Vail's  one;  who's  the  other?" 

"Why,  Zizi,  Vail  was  in  the  elevator " 

"Penny,  I've  known  that  'Vail  was  in  the  elevator' 
all  through  this  whole  matter.  I've  been  told  a  thou 
sand  times  that  Vail  was  in  the  elevator !  It's  been 
fairly  rubbed  into  my  noddle  that  Vail  was  in  the 
elevator!  Why,  don't  you  see,  that's  Vail's  alibi! 
His  being  in  the  elevator  is  his  safeguard!  Oh, 
Penny-poppy-show,  sometimes  I  despair  of  ever 
making  a  detective  out  of  you !  Well,  my  dear  child, 
Mr  Vail  is  one, — as  I  remarked, — and  I  found  him ; 
now  you  may  find  the  other,  and  then  we'll  have 
the  'two  men'  who  'did  this.'  Get  busy." 

"S'pose,  since  you're  so  smart,  you  find  the  other 
one,"  said  Wise,  with  no  trace  of  jealousy  in  his 
tone.  He  was  as  elated  at  Zizi's  cleverness  as  if  it 
had  been  his  own,  and  he  believed  her  implicitly. 

"I  can  do  it,"  she  said,  calmly.  "Send  for  Molly." 
[284] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

"Yes,  there's  the  key  to  the  situation,"  Wise 
agreed. 

Richard  Bates  sat  still,  wondering  if  the  joyful 
news  that  no  one  he  cared  for  was  implicated  could 
really  be  true!  He  awaited  Molly's  coming  with 
impatience,  longing  to  get  the  whole  matter  cleared 
up. 

"And  so,  Molly,"  Zizi  began,  when  the  girl  came 
into  the  room  and  Wise  had  closed  the  door  behind 
her,  "and  so  it  was  Mr  Vail  who  married  you !" 

A  suppressed  shriek  answered  them,  and  Molly 
glared  like  an  angry  tiger.  "No!"  she  screamed, 
"noF 

"Useless  talk,"  said  Zizi,  "your  fright  and  your 
excitement  give  the  lie  to  your  words!  Though 
your  words  are  oftener  lies  than  not.  Now,  Molly, 
you  don't  dare  go  contrary  to  Mr  Vail's  orders,  I 
know,  but  don't  you  think  you'd  better  do  that  than 
to  go  to  jail?" 

"I  don't  know Oh,  I  don't  know  what  to 

do,"  and  the  girl  broke  down  and  wept  so  piteously 
that  Zizi  was  sorry  for  her. 

"There,  there,  Molly,"  she  said,  "I'll  take  care  of 
you.  You're  only  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  a  villain; 
you  stay  by  me,  and  I'll  look  after  you.  Penny,  we 
want  Vail." 

They  got  Vail.  At  first  he  brazened  it  out,  and 
finally,  when  he  was  cornered,  he  turned  state's  evi 
dence  to  save  what  he  could  of  his  own  skin. 

It  seemed,  Vail  was  determined  to  make  the  deal 
[285] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


for  the  Binney  Buns,  and,  as  a  last  resort,  had  way 
laid  Sir  Herbert  on  his  way  home  from  the  Hotel 
Magnifique  after  the  dinner  to  the  chorus  girls. 

With  Vail  on  that  occasion  was  a  friend  of  his, 
one  Doctor  Weldon,  who  was  a  skillful  surgeon, 
more  careful  in  his  surgical  operations  than  in  his 
mental  or  moral  ones.  He  was  Vail's  tool,  by  rea 
son  of  past  historic  incidents,  and  the  scheme  had 
been  planned  by  the  two  conspirators. 

Binney  was  invited  to  Dr  Weldon's  home,  not  far 
from  The  Campanile,  and  there,  from  midnight  on, 
both  Vail  and  Weldon  tried  to  persuade  the  English 
man  to  consent  to  Vail's  terms. 

But  Binney  was  obdurate  and  finally  went  home, 
accompanied  by  the  two  men.  When  near  The 
Campanile,  Vail  darted  on  ahead,  and  managed 
adroitly  to  get  into  the  elevator  with  Moore  and  be 
on  the  way  up  when  Binney  and  Dr  Weldon  entered 
the  onyx  lobby. 

The  rest  was  easy.  Binney  had  the  Prall  paper- 
knife  with  him  and  the  Doctor  knew  it.  With  it,  the 
skilled  surgeon  stabbed  his  victim  and  made  away 
at  once.  Sir  Herbert,  dying,  but  with  mind  alert, 
wrote  the  fact  that  two  men  were  responsible  for 
his  death;  and  whether  he  tried  to  continue  with 
'get  both'  or  'get  Bob's  evidence'  or  'get  bakery,'  or 
what  was  in  his  fast  clouding  brain,  they  never 
.knew. 

But  when  to  the  surprise  of  the  criminals,  women 
[286] 


Fitted  to  a  T 

were  suspected,  they  felt  so  freed  from  suspicion 
that  they  took  no  care  about  it. 

Vail,  however,  was  keen  for  the  recipe,  which  was, 
in  part,  why  he  had  Binney  killed,  and  he  made  many 
attempts  to  find  it  in  its  clever  hiding  place.  When 
he  did  find  it,  Molly  knew  of  it,  and  in  order  to 
keep  the  girl  quiet  he  married  her,  with,  however,  a 
mock  ceremony. 

Discovering  this,  Molly  was  so  angry  that  she  told 
on  Vail,  and  he,  in  turn,  told  on  Doctor  Weldon. 

All  of  this  was  disclosed  promptly,  and  justice 
took  its  course  with  the  "Two  men." 

It  would  be  pleasant  to  write  further  that  the  his 
toric  feud  of  the  "women"  who  had  been  so  keenly 
suspected  was  settled  as  satisfactorily.  But  not  so. 
The  two  opposing  forces  seemed  to  take  on  new  vim 
from  the  revelation  of  the  truth  about  the  murder, 
and  each  positively  seemed  angered  that  the  other 
had  not  been  found  guilty. 

This  may  not  have  been  the  real  truth  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  hearts  of  Miss  Prall  and  Mrs  Everett, 
but  certain  it  is  that,  though  they  might  not  have 
desired  conviction  for  one  another,  they  greatly  en 
joyed  suspicion. 

"At  any  rate,"  said  Miss  Prall,  "Adeline  did  set 
her  cap  for  Sir  Herbert,  and  I  think  that's  a  crime 
in  itself." 

And  Mrs  Everett  remarked,  "Poor  man !  but  he's 
better  off  than  if  Letitia  Prall  had  caught  him! 
Which  she  tried  her  best  to  do !" 
[287] 


In  the  Onyx  Lobby 


The  young  lovers,  relieved  of  all  fears  that  their 
people  or  each  other's  people  were  implicated  in 
crime,  were  so  emancipated  from  fear  of  any  sort, 
that  they  dared  to  plan  their  marriage  without  the 
consent  of  their  elders. 

Said  Richard,  "We're  going  to  be  married,  any 
way,  Aunt  Letitia;  you  can  understand  that!  And 
your  own  conduct  you  may  shape  as  you  choose." 

Quoth  Dorcas :  "I'm  going  to  marry  Ricky, 
mother.  If  you  consent  all  right, — if  you  don't,  I 'It 
elope." 

And  the  Feudists,  though  incensed  to  the  point  of 
exasperation,  had  a  certain  secret  feeling  of  satis 
faction  that  the  wedding  would  add  fuel  to  the 
flames, of  their  somewhat  smoldering  fires  of  wrath. 

"Bless  'em,"  said  Bates,  as  the  honeymoon  began, 
"they  ought  to  be  grateful  to  us  for  giving  them 
something  new  to  fight  about." 

"They  are,"  said  Dorcas. 


THE  END 


[288] 


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